Supreme Danganronpa 3: Past Despair, Hope's Future's Present!
by OurStygianEmperor
Summary: The thrilling and completely hypothetical conclusion to Danganronpa! Makoto Naegi and his friends, along with 'new' students of Hope's Peak Academy, find themselves in one last killing game orchestrated by the diabolical Monokuma and supervised by a squid who speaks in emoticons. Will Hope find the truth, will Despair forever obscure the truth, or will something else emerge?
1. Prologue: In Search of Lost Friends

**Notes:** A story wherein the six survivors regained their school memories sometime after Super Danganronpa 2. Naturally, there are spoilers present for all Danganronpa media (Danganronpa  & Super Danganronpa 2, Another Episode, Zero, IF, etc.).

Hello, everyone! As you all know, the real Danganronpa 3 is going to air very soon. I, for one, cannot be any more excited: Danganronpa is the first franchise in a long while that is so compelling that I simply must express my fondness for it through writing. Indeed, this is my first stab at fanfiction in a long while. That being the case, I am eager to refine my writing, so please do not hold back on any critiques you have to offer!

Now, is it a bit strange to write an alternative ending to the main series when the real ending is so close? Yes-but I consider this work my own tribute to this engaging series. I hope you've enjoyed this tribute as much as I enjoyed writing it! Updates are not scheduled, but I intend to publish bi-weekly, or whenever it is fit for securing a chapter's quality.

 _ **Addendum:**_ A big thank you to user Waterfial for beta-reading my first chapter! I feel confident publishing this chapter now that I got some useful assistance!

* * *

 **Prologue: In Search of Lost Friends**

" ** _Future Foundation Urges Government to Reopen Hope's Peak Academy_**

TOKYO – The Future Foundation, having successfully contained bubbles of Ultimate Despair activity, are explicit about their desire to reopen the prestigious Hope's Peak Academy. 'Hope's Peak Academy,' a representative of the Future Foundation elaborated to the House of Representatives, 'is as much to thank for rebuilding the damage done by Ultimate Despair as the brave individuals who spearheaded Ultimate Despair's downfall. We must acknowledge there is still more work to be done to bring about a shining future, and we must be aware it will take the continued existence of people like those brave individuals to achieve prosperity. If Hope's Peak facilitated in the growth of those brave individuals who triumphed over Ultimate Despair, then a reopening of the academy may be integral to our prospective goals.'

Hope's Peak Academy . . ."

Makoto Naegi rose his eyes from his tablet to inspect the airport terminal. Escalators greeted his immediate vision, and bright rays of sunlight seeped through the left corner of his vision. He followed the hints of sunlight and saw a large window separating the airport terminal from the ramp and runway. The sun's brilliance overwhelmed him, so he quickly turned away from the window and stared at the escalators again. Their mechanical murmurings contrasted with the silence that inhabited the lobby.

Makoto yawned and leaned back into his leather seat. His hands moved the tablet to an adjacent seat. What use would the tablet be for him, when he could occupy himself with his surroundings?

The Future Foundation had kept Makoto busy: traveling to Europe for peace-talks between Czechoslovakia and the once aggressive country of Novoselic, building stable relations among warring African countries, and pacifying a potential civil war in the United States were what the leaders of the organization accepted as adequate compensation for his actions in Jabberwock Island. He, in spite of the meager pay, mostly enjoyed his work. He had to admit, though, that all of his humanitarian efforts, exciting as they may have sounded, only made him even more boring. After all, he was currently entertaining himself by drawing imaginary figures on an indistinct airport roof.

Makoto sighed, his hands on the back of his head. No, he couldn't fool himself that easily with a façade of boredom. A bitter realization dawned on him that morning day, and he could not distract himself from it: ambivalence is a far more impactful force than even the most acute despair. He could recall the dread of sliding closer and closer into a crushing and roaring instrument of death, constructed by a deranged mastermind for a certain Kyoko Kirigiri but capriciously forced onto him; he could also recall the horror disappearing immediately when Fortune's plan intended for his survival. The anxiety that justifiably encumbered his spirit when he confronted the near-deified Junko Enoshima AI would have incapacitated any lesser person, but it too disappeared, if only for a brief moment, when Sonia Nevermind learned her indecencies had been aired to an audience. His was not the most brilliant of intellects, but Makoto felt pride spread through him as he contemplated the ineffectual nature of despair. Ineffectual, at least, in comparison to the ambivalence he recognized even now.

" _Hope's Peak Academy. I don't really know what to think about Hope's Peak Academy,"_ Makoto thought.

Makoto liked the warmth of his hands on his scalp. He couldn't remember the last time he had laid his head on something like a fluffed pillow. The accommodations provided by the Future Foundation during his travels were Spartan, if plane seats and sleeping pads could be called anything. He had grown fond of his business suit as well. It lacked the calming embrace of a blanket, but it performed admirably as a prevalent substitute.

Makoto continued, " _Improving the world by helping talented people reach their potential? There's nothing wrong with it on paper, but the administration of Hope's Peak took things way beyond 'on paper'. How they treated everyday people… what they did to Hajime… Do we really need that mindset coming back again?"_

Makoto hadn't slept since he arrived at the airport. In spite of being the sole passenger of a hospitable jet (access to a jet and the private terminal he now resided in were some of the few genuine luxuries provided by the Future Foundation.), all the paperwork he had to review prevented him from resting. Frankly, he thought, Toko's irascible personality was perfectly understandable, since she had to carry the brunt of the heavy work in her capacity as an intern for the Future Foundation. his felt his brain pulsate within his skull.

" _And Junko... she abused the school's good intentions to kickstart her insane plan. The Academy even let her do it. The Academy also let me stay, though. Let me stay… and meet my friends,"_ Makoto considered.

The bags hanging under Makoto's eyes strained his last vestiges of strength. Waves of delirium swelled and receded in his mind, eroding the internal mechanisms that unjustly segregated the irregular chaos of the unconscious from its rebelliously regulated offspring, reality. The imaginary roof drawings took on a life of their own, dancing in celebration of his blurring vision to the music of the escalators growling just a distance away. Reality fizzled into the breast of Slumber.

As he descended into Her depths, Makoto recalled his friends, " _Kyoko, Byakuya, Aoi, Yasuhiro, Toko… Sayaka, Leon, Chihiro, Mondo, Kiyotaka, Hifumi, Taeko, Sakura… even Junko. I… really do owe Hope's Peak a debt for meeting all of them._ "

Slumber would not take Makoto just yet, however, for he had made a venial error. A moment passed, and with its passing crept a wistful smile.

" _Ah, how could I have forgotten about... Mukuro…"_ Makoto realized.

And with that realization, Makoto finally faded into her embrace.

* * *

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised by this."

"That makes two of us. I suppose Makoto hasn't completely disappointed me, at the very least."

"Aww! He's kind of cute when he's napping! Maybe not being the best greeter right now, though..."

"Dude, I wish I could be in his place right now. Been taking a beating to my chakra balance from... y'know, money problems."

"H-how'd you manage to get yourself into another mess?! On second thought, never mind: I know exactly how you'd sink your funds."

Familiar voices echoed in Makoto's unconscious, spurring him back into the waking world. With a groan, he opened his eyes and tilted his head to meet those voices. Standing around him were his five classmates from Hope's Peak Academy, each better groomed and better rested than him. They seemed to have made themselves comfortable waiting on him—ironic, considering he had arrived so early to wait for them—and they all could not help but be amused by his awakening. He wanted to laugh uproariously at how anemic of a host he was, but his ongoing transition into lucidity only allowed him to chuckle tiredly.

Makoto leaned his head back onto his hands and crossed his legs, exaggerating the pose he had been caught sleeping in. "Hey, guys. Glad to see you've finally made it!"

"And I'm glad our arrival has been so warmly acknowledged by a timely host," Kyoko Kirigiri replied, a hint of a smile escaping from her otherwise stoic face. She styled her hair into a knot tied by a black ribbon with two long strands of it reaching down to her front abdomen. She wore a plain black blazer over an equally indistinct white blouse, completed by a short pencil skirt, heeled boots, and a pouch wrapped around her left leg. Her black gloves remained as constant throughout the years as her diligence to incorporate practicality with aloof beauty. Gratitude flowed within Makoto when he caught the hint of a smile: if all the tribulations Kyoko and Makoto had overcome were necessary for the emergence of that expression, then he would cherish despair itself for birthing such a lovely smile.

"Self-deprecation won't earn you any points from me. But... It's good to see you again, Makoto," Byakuya Togami said softly, deigning to give a genuine smile. Little had changed in his appearance since Makoto last saw him: he wore a black business suit like Makoto's, although his was impeccably clean in comparison to Makoto's more visibly worn attire. His hair had grown a bit thicker, Makoto noted, and its growth highlighted that certain Togami nobility he embodied. Makoto also noted that said nobility seemed to have been tempered by something encapsulated in Byakuya's smile, and he was glad for it.

"Makoto! It's a good thing I've arrived: we need to get you energized with some physical activity!" Aoi Asahina waved a hand at Makoto and grinned. She wore a black blazer and an olive green tie over a standard button-up shirt, shorts accompanied by leggings, and tennis shoes. The style combined business with casual, perhaps to demonstrate how she had matured while keeping her perky nature intact. She still had a ponytail, but the downward angle of it suggested to Makoto that she was beginning to entertain the idea of being more 'feminine' with her hair. He was enthusiastic for the day when the idea would become reality.

"Yo man, long time no see! Want me to give you some chants to ward off lethargy? This one's on the house!" Yasuhiro Hagakure guffawed after he greeted Makoto, which made Makoto briefly doubt how sincere he was about the free lesson. He presented himself strangely: a business suit, wrist-watch, and glasses (which, given his strategy for roping in customers, Makoto concluded were purely cosmetic and only worn to present an _appearance_ of credibility) suggested a professional; rolled up trousers, sandals, a loose hanging green tie lazily wrapped around an unbuttoned collar, outrageously unkempt hair, and the fact that he didn't even tuck his arms into the suit 'jacket' revealed a sloven. Makoto ultimately decided that Hiro was Hiro and that he was simply too tired to be anything but happy to see him.

"... I guess I was wrong: Komaru definitely wouldn't develop a complex over you. Haha, n-not to say you're a bad guy. It's just, you see, you're acting so immature after being caught sleeping like a sloth and—and I'll shut up now." Toko's tone and countenance sputtered out in much of the same way her attempt at a jocular comment did, but Makoto appreciated the effort. Byakuya once snorted at the mere suggestion of a servicer not keeping themselves tidy and formal at all times. This sentiment compelled Toko to remodel herself: she wore a sleek black business suit with stockings, dress pumps, and a slit skirt; her long black hair was tied into a singular braid, and she accessorized it with six hairclips. Makoto was proud for his sister when he observed the results of her friendship with Toko.

"Yeah, looks like there's no denying I was caught napping." Makoto rose from his seat, tablet and luggage in hand. "Seriously, though, it's been too long since we were all in one place. In some ways, this reunion is already a success!"

Byakuya pointed a finger at Makoto. "Hmph, it's so like you to be easily contented. Don't you remember the day's just begun?"

"Byakuya's right, we haven't even gotten breakfast yet!" Aoi added with puffed cheeks.

"Ha! Then let's make sure today's worth the flying and sleep deprivation!" Makoto declared with a bright smile.

Makoto's confidence warmed and comforted his friends. Even Kyoko, cool-headed by nature, had to bask in his determination. "Lead the way, Makoto."

* * *

The street corner bustled from the daily travels of numerous Tokyo citizens as Makoto and his friends sat in a secluded area of the corner's restaurant. The restaurant had a quaint atmosphere, with the smell of black coffee permeating the air and its bright yellow walls mimicking the hue of narcissus flowers. The light pretense emphasized the exclusivity of the restaurant, though Byakuya reserved seating in a blasé manner nonetheless. The party were grateful for Byakuya's discriminating tastes, and Makoto in particular marveled at the quality of his pancakes with eggs. Sitting to the right of a window once again, Makoto enjoyed the exhibition of everyday life most of all.

"Clear as a crisp spring morning..." Makoto said idly.

Hiro sipped his coffee. "I'll tell you what's as clear as a crisp spring morning: this coffee!"

"What're you poeticizing about? I kind of like the interior here myself," Toko asked.

"Oh? I'm just people-watching, I guess," Makoto replied.

"Don't cut yourself short, Makoto," Kyoko said. "Seeing society operate is a good activity. You can't appreciate work if you don't see its results, right?"

"Heh, you could say that. A shepherd who never bothers to know their sheep is doomed. I'm making sure I keep my sheep in order," Byakuya said.

"I would be worried about your way of putting it, but I think you've got good intentions," Aoi muttered in between drinking a protein shake and chomping on a donut. "Plus, I really owe you one! I haven't had this great of a breakfast since who knows when!"

Makoto peeked through the window and saw a young mother smile lovingly at her light-haired, cooing baby. "Isn't it wonderful, though? That we and everyone else can live this life?"

Toko, having also caught a glimpse of the blossoming family, grew rose-red. "M-master Byakuya, if you desire, I can be the best and happiest caretaker of your—"

"Only in an alternative universe could that happened. Even then, the probability is only barely above zero." Byakuya's rejection carried the authority of a lightning bolt.

Aoi snickered. "Leaving you two love birds alone, I totally agree! Whenever I feel a bit down, all I gotta do is go for a run or swim and look at the world we've helped, and I get pumped! Seeing so many people just be people... It reminds me that I'm a part of something bigger than myself, y'know?"

Hiro stroked his goatee. "I might not look it, but I've got similar sentiments. Like, have I told you guys about my new project? I've been organizing a partnership between the Future Foundation and TAT Television. Basically, I suggested to both of 'em that TV could inspire audiences as much as it can entertain them, and the Future Foundation agreed, so the higher-ups drafted a show highlighting the hopes of humanity. TAT accepted the proposal, and now we're going to produce the best television we can offer! Pretty sweet, huh?"

Byakuya smirked and finished up a lightly topped English muffin. "I must say, there are times where even I am impressed by your intermittent instances of competence. Though, considering you had nepotism on your side, can we really say it was your doing?"

"HEY! Way to call the bowl or whatever black, Mr. rich family teapot! And it's not like that, I just have a direct line to the head of TAT Television—totally friendly line to him, may I add!" Hiro shouted.

Byakuya's rebuttal came swiftly. "The idiom is, 'the pot calling the kettle black,' firstly. Secondly, I arrived at my status through my own means, whereas you simply bumbled into the good graces of a girl who herself is only wealthy because of her father's work."

"Whatever man, I'm still helping people!"

"Hiro, I'm happy to hear that things are going well for you––both professionally and personally," Kyoko chimed in.

"Whoa, thanks Kyoko! I guess I must be doing something right if you're on my side!" Hiro cheered, oblivious to Kyoko's loaded language. She smiled knowingly.

Makoto observed the development of the conversation and felt a familiar hesitation wash over him. Unfortunately, its arrival was not concomitant with any encroaching weariness, so he knew he couldn't escape the conflict this time. Hope's Peak Academy and the Future Foundation screamed in his mind, both challenging him and both soothing him in their paradoxical unity. A beam of sunlight burst through the sparsely clouded sky and restaurant window, blinding him temporarily. He considered the possibility that the painful light dulled his inhibitions enough to allow him to speak, but he, perhaps still stuck in a state of sleepy delirium, chose to interpret the event as a call to action: he would place his faith on his friends' sympathies and take the leap.

"Is anyone else bothered by what the Future Foundation is doing?"

It surprised Makoto to see his sudden question receive an equally unexpected response.

"Their interest in restarting Hope Peak Academy concerns me as well." Kyoko's face darkened.

"Exactly—wait, how'd you know I was thinking about Hope's Peak Academy?..."

"I saw the news article on your tablet, and it seemed reasonable to assume you'd be troubled by it. Plus... I had been thinking a lot about it before I arrived. I suppose you could call it an intuition from empathy."

Toko groaned. "Ugh, can I tell you all the ways I don't want this to happen? Not only has the paperwork been a nightmare, but it also reminds me too much of Towa City... Komaru and I both discovered there how awful things can get if people obsess over reviving the past."

"Paperwork? So there's more going on than just a suggestion?" Makoto inquired.

"Ah!" Toko cried. "I m-mean, I didn't make any big decisions or am privy to any of the specific details, but being an intern has some perks."

Byakuya glared at the trio discussing Hope's Peak Academy with lion's eyes. When Toko revealed her knowledge, he pounced. "Toko, what do you have to offer them—and me?"

"Master," Toko purred, "the world—and more. Like I said, I didn't have access to all the confidential material, but I can confirm that the higher-ups already have the logistical and administrative plans worked out. Honestly, I think all they need now is a government sanction to begin construction."

Makoto sunk into his seat as he heard this revelation. His sight drifted across his friends sluggishly, searching for one expression of stability. Faces depicting an alien sensation—a stranger of perturbation and even despair—greeted him; Perhaps instead, the faces merely reflected the foreign look back at him, identifying him as the interloper and mocking him with an effigy. The truth was not for him to know.

"I..." Aoi said, breaking the silence, "I like the idea. I got to be where I am because I had heroes to look up to. Was I just born to swim? Definitely. But there's more to it than that. When I was younger, Yuta––Yuta and I used to always watch the Olympics. We'd huddle together in a big blanket, watch the best of the best claw their way to victory, and bet on which of us would end up on the big screen with a gold medal first. Every time I swam for fun or for a competition, I would always think about those televised events, those gold medals, and those bets you make when you're young and just want to one-up your bratty little brother... What I'm trying to get at here is seeing heroes made me want to be one. Hope's Peak Academy was all about showcasing our future heroes, and if there's any time when people need something to hope for, it's now."

"Yes," Byakuya challenged, "present people with a facile picture of hope: hope––but born only from prodigies––championed by ultimates––but ultimates who know only isolation––to parade to the populace––but only a pathetic and servile populace. I am not kindred spirits with the common man, but, if I have learned anything from our time together, I have learned that the most regular person is just as much a possible source of hope as the ultimates. Hope's Peak Academy deluded itself and deluded its students: what came of those delusions besides jealousy, destruction, and despair? As an experiment, the academy failed. That our superiors took all the wrong lessons from this failure reminds me why I even bother to remain a member: someone needs to succeed them and lead the organization properly."

"Wait a minute, Byakuya," Makoto interjected. "We both have firsthand knowledge of how badly Hope's Peak Academy screwed up directly creating hope, but I think you're trying to ignore their indirect successes."

"Oh?" Byakuya sneered at Makoto. "Weren't you the one who brought up the obvious problem of a new Hope's Peak Academy? Before you make a fool of yourself, do at least present a somewhat compelling case for my willful ignorance: what am I leaving out? Come on now, out with it."

"I don't mean to be cheeky," Makoto answered with poise, "but you're staring right at some of the indirect successes of Hope's Peak Academy. We met because of Hope's Peak, and the sheltered environment we all had to live in forced us to understand each other. You've just admitted you wouldn't have grown as a person were it not for Hope's Peak, so it's strange to see you portray it as a completely negative place."

"That's right," Kyoko declared. "The ultimate affluent progeny would be just as deluded as the administration of Hope's Peak Academy if he didn't just so happen to attend the very same academy. I, more than anyone here, have the largest incentive to reject the idea that Hope's Peak helped me grow up, but, even with all the corruption I know lurked in the school's heart, I can't deny the idea any more than I can deny my friendships born in Hope's Peak. I'm completely with you in doubting the wisdom of this plan, but I don't think you want to admit that you're like Makoto and everyone else here in sympathizing with the idea of a new Hope's Peak."

The silent room shook and time itself paused at the power of Kyoko's deduction. Aside from Toko skittishly looking at the debaters, no one moved from their positions prior to the debate. Byakuya glared at his two opponents with an intense but ambiguous expression. He then laughed.

"Just like old times," Byakuya said. "I always said you must embrace the truth, no matter how unpleasant it appears. I suppose I do have a certain fondness for Hope's Peak Academy, then. We're now right back at square one: we don't hate Hope's Peak, but we don't completely support it either. Now isn't this a conundrum? Makoto, I believe I have a method of determining the solution to this problem, if you're willing to humor me."

"Um... sure? What do you have in mind?" Makoto asked.

"Let's play a game, maybe one that involves one-pocket pool: if you win that pool game, I'll allow you to ask me whatever inane questions you desire to have answered regarding my time at Hope's Peak; if I win that pool game, I'm allowed to ask what precisely made you enjoy your time at Hope's Peak. Do we have a deal?"

* * *

A droplet of sweat fell from Makoto's forehead, staining the otherwise solid green cue table he had flinched back from. The ceiling light's sterile light fell on the result of his ineptitude: the absence of the cue ball indicated a scratch, and the surprisingly neat arrangement of object balls showed that little playing actually occurred. He could feel the smug satisfaction of his opponent across the table suffocate him, and all he could muster as a response was a sheepish laugh and a downcast face.

" _Ultimate 'lucky' student… Sure, I guess this is luck…"_ Makoto thought. Though a more self-aware part of him acknowledged he had entered this no-win situation voluntarily and thus was fully to blame for this outcome, he reasoned that he deserved this pretend persecution for once. He wanted to just quietly escape to the round booth his friends, who had watched the lopsided game, were sitting in and make nothing of this unfortunate game. Before he could act, however, Byakuya made the first move.

"When it comes down to skill and intelligence, the real superior becomes obvious," Byakuya taunted. The harsh lighting of the bar, a high-class establishment with a deliberately shady aesthetic, emphasized his assertive features.

"Wow, um, that didn't go quite as well as I wanted it to."

"This is the first time I've seen someone scratch three times in a row. You deserve to know, as a reward for this accomplishment, that I have played against more challenging children."

"Whatever, you win. Can we just go back to the table and—"

"Hold it. We arranged this game to determine who would have to ramble about school days. I expect you to leave no memory unturned and no emotions unexpressed. That is the decree of the victor."

"W-what?! I remember what I agreed to! I don't get why you're so insistent about this idea, but... I won't back down! If I can't compete in this game, at least I can show you that I can hold my end of the bargain!" Makoto exclaimed. He noted something odd, though: usually, Byakuya would be taken aback by his bursts of energy, but after he launched his declaration, Byakuya appeared nonchalant. His eyes aimed right at Byakuya and received an image of him, still with a satisfied smirk, looking at something around the booth where his guests were sitting. He clenched his hand lightly.

"I think you're still playing a game, and this pool match was just a trap."

"You might be right, or you might be wrong. That is for me to decide and for you to find out. Now, let's begin our discussion with the rest of the group."

Makoto released his grip and sighed. "I guess I'll learn soon enough. Well, can't put it off, can I? Let's head back."

* * *

"Makoto, you kind of suck at pool," Toko said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," Makoto said, "it's nice to know you care enough to notice..."

"Hey, anyone challenging master is going to lose, but I can at least hope for something interesting when you're involved—being cool with your lucky turnabouts and all."

"Oh, you think I'm cool?" Makoto asked with genuine surprise.

"...! Komaru's words, not mine!" Toko's normally pale face turned pallid.

"Maybe 'cool' isn't the right word: 'motivational' might be what you're looking for?" Kyoko suggested. She glanced at Makoto and winked as she said 'motivational'; he nodded with a grin. Toko whispered a meek, "Yeah, that's it," then scurried back into her own thoughts.

Makoto looked at a clock near the group's booth: it was 10:30 P.M. Were it not for the clock and the dark windows, he would have guessed it was still sometime in the morning, even though he and his friends had gone to a baseball game after breakfast and had an evening dinner at the bar they were currently in. The minor migraine he felt informed him that this temporal confusion could be due to sleep deprivation, and he would have been happy to accept that explanation if he did not also feel a pang of melancholy when recalling the baseball game. The pain from the headache—a dulling agent which expanded continuously and replaced any higher-level thoughts pushed out with a shallow singularity—proved somewhat helpful in reminding him that he still existed right in the presumed present. The memories of a baseball game (and of a baseball star he once knew or knows) were of the past, as all memories are, he told himself.

"What an amusing baseball game today, Makoto. But you have to agree with me when I say we've seen better, right?" Byakuya asked suddenly.

"Huh?" Makoto returned back to time. "Well of course. Don't you remember the spring showdown during our first year at Hope's Peak Academy?"

Aoi's eyes sparkled. "Oh yeah! We reached the final game of the year! Us versus the best school Kansai had to offer! I knew we were going to win, but it was such a close match that I definitely remember nearly falling out of my seat from sitting too close to its edge!"

"Huh? I don't remember any big playoff!" Hiro said.

"You were banned from going within 100 meters of the school's baseball stadium, if you must need assistance," Byakuya said. "Specifically, the school didn't think you setting up shop immediately outside the entrance and offering to divine the results of the game—'for the low, low price of $1000 per prediction,' you advertised––painted a flattering image of them. If you're wondering how I know this, I was the one who reported your activity to the school after you wasted my time during the first game of winter season."

"Hm..." Hiro searched through his memory. "Yeah, now I remember! Honestly, I owe you a solid: not being allowed to actually see the games somehow tuned up my instincts, so my accuracy went up to 45%! Plus, I had to find a new way to provide my services, so I set up a little online server with Chihiro and Taeko. People could gamble for who would win the games AND pay me to help 'em make the best choice! It was a win-win for everyone!"

"Gambling is illegal, you know," Kyoko stated.

"W-what?! But Taeko told me it was a completely legitimate business venture!" Hiro shrieked, sweat already precipitating on his forehead.

Kyoko looked incredulous. "You... trusted the 'Queen of Liars' without fact-checking?... Don't worry, I was just... kidding. You're fine. Just... fine as you."

"Ah, Kyoko, don't scare me like that! I can't go to prison! I know the mafia'll have eyes and ears there, and I'm still not out of the clear just yet." Hiro relaxed into his seat, but not before doing a nervous scan of the establishment.

"What I want to know is how you and Taeko roped Chihiro into this," Makoto said.

"Yeah, Taeko did most of the negotiating: something about really needing the money for an important thing. I remember Chihiro looking pretty happy when he finished the network and wishing Taeko 'had a great time with him'. Never did find out what she did with her share of the profit, though," Hiro answered.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I know what she did with her money," Makoto said. "When we came back from winter break, Hifumi and Taeko were almost inseparable. I was pretty happy for both of them, but I wanted to know what changed the two's relationship. I mean, they were already an odd pair, but Taeko seemed genuinely considerate of Hifumi now. I asked Hifumi about it, and he told me that he and Taeko had went to a huge fanfiction convention in spite of Hifumi's lack of funds. Apparently Taeko paid for both of their travel costs and helped advertise Hifumi's new fanfiction. Hifumi was so grateful for everything Taeko had done for him that he promised to forever be by the side of... Um, what was the term he used again?... Oh yeah, his 'Japanese English rose'."

"So, Taeko used the money from the gambling server to fund a trip with Hifumi. Knowing this, it's almost as if the two had feelings for one another," Kyoko said teasingly. "Did you ever approach Taeko about Hifumi's testimony?"

Makoto grinned. "Do you really think I'm that much of a gossip? Well yes, detective, I did talk to Taeko to get her side of the story. She gave me the most honest response she could give."

Kyoko leaned in towards Makoto. "Oh? What was it?"

"She hid her face in her hands and excused herself without saying another word," Makoto said, laughing afterwards.

Kyoko chuckled along. "I must agree with your conclusion, then."

"I knew those two had something going on!" Aoi yelled. "They always did everything together. I even remember them sitting next to each other in the baseball game and just looking bored when it was getting so epic! Man, I was pretty ticked off: they should have been cheering! Applauding! Heck, I would have taken crying too! I was about to tell them to get their act together before Sakura stopped me."

Toko rolled her eyes. "Did she repeat some obscure epigram about letting people do what they will? That's totally something I'd expect from her. She always did sound like she walked out of a fortune cookie factory."

Aoi frowned. "Excuse me? Maybe if you spend less time in bookland and more time exercising your actual muscles, you'll realize how smart Sakura is!"

"I do think Sakura is smart... or was, at least. I was at that game too, right next to you and Sakura. I didn't even plan on going at first, but Sakura insisted I come along with her. Looking back on it, I... had fun."

"I... I see. I'm sorry I got snappy with you, and I'm sorry I didn't remember that you respected Sakura."

Toko put a finger on her lips and averted eye contact. "I-it's no big deal. Geez, you shouldn't be so maudlin when we're talking about a baseball game."

"Heheh, I guess you're right," Aoi said bashfully.

Toko raised the finger from her lips to the air and raised her eyes. "Of course I'm right! Wouldn't the Aoi I know be busy jumping in the air about how that one homerun in the spring game was super awesome or something?!"

Aoi nearly rocked the table with the vigor of her fist-pump. "Heck yeah she would be! And not just any super awesome homerun! I'm thinking about the one by my man Leon that gave us the clutch win!"

"That homerun sure was exciting, but wasn't the victory rush cool too? I couldn't stop cheering when I saw Leon hold that gold trophy up in the air!" Makoto added abruptly.

"Huh? Leon didn't hold the trophy. He passed it to someone else and just threw his cap in the air. That was neat too, but everyone cheered for the actual play more," Aoi said.

"Oh, right! Hahaha! My bad, guess my memory's not perfect. Anyways, sure, everyone loved the homerun, but you can't just focus on one part when the big picture is as impressive, right? Now, for me, the best part was when––"

"Makoto, why are you trying to avoid the homerun?" Kyoko asked.

Makoto visibly twitched and slowly turned his head from Aoi to Kyoko. "W-what are you talking about? I'm not trying to avoid anything. Haha, why would you even think... how could you figure..."

"Are you going to say your blush and wavering voice are just coincidences?"

"B-blush?!" Makoto's hands hastily felt his face. "This isn't... I mean... No, that's wrong!"

Kyoko smirked, and she was not alone: the rest of the group rallied behind her charge against Makoto. Aoi laughed jovially alongside Toko, who was barely suppressing laughter. Byakuya looked slyly at him while wagging a finger at him, and Hiro gave a hearty shake to his shoulder. "Save your energy for a trial you can actually win," Kyoko declared.

Makoto massaged his forehead. This defeat only exacerbated his migraine. "You can't be serious... Am I just life's punching bag today? This still doesn't qualify as my worst day ever... But it's close. Fine, I don't want to talk about _that_ homerun."

"And why's that?" Kyoko asked.

"Not to be rude, but you should already know why it's... embarrassing."

Kyoko tilted her head slightly. "Should I?"

"Wait, you don't remember?"

"I don't. Look, if it's a genuinely painful memory, we can stop talking about this."

"No! It's not anything traumatic. In fact, maybe you guys will enjoy my little, err, story. And besides," Makoto took a moment to smile, "I don't want to see you get worried about me."

"Open like a book..." Kyoko brushed her hair to the side slowly. "I think everyone here wants to hear what you have to say."

"Ok," Makoto began, "so I was sitting in a middle row of the stadium with Kyoko and Sayaka. The three of us were invested in the game, but Sayaka especially kept watch of a certain Leon Kuwata's performance. The two had made an agreement earlier that if Leon tried his hardest in the game, she would go on a date with him. Throughout most of the game, it looked like Leon was fulfilling that promise. The other team was good, though, and we reached the final stretch of the game on a tie. Anxiety permeated the air, but we had hope in our hearts. After all, Leon was batting this turn."

"Can we cut past the exposition? We all know the circumstances surrounding the game itself," Byakuya said.

Makoto grimaced. "Y-yes, of course. Leon's bat collided with the ball and sent it rocketing through the air! My heart nearly leaped out of my chest, but my hands went up in the air all the same. I wanted to catch that flying ball and collect a piece of history. The ball did fly at my general direction, but..."

"But?" Toko asked warily.

"... It soared just a bit too high for my hands to reach. It wasn't too high to hit someone's loosely held popcorn bag above my head, though."

Kyoko's eyes widened slowly. "Someone behind Makoto with popcorn? Mondo..."

"Right. The last guy you want to inconvenience."

"Mondo nearly tore his seat from its bolting when his popcorn suddenly disappeared. Frankly, it was a miracle Sayaka and I managed to calm him down enough for him to reaize Makoto didn't somehow knock his popcorn away, and that was with Taka and Chihiro by his side. We could have used your help in pacifying him, but you had disappeared––to the bathroom, you explained, when we finally reunited with you outside the stadium," Kyoko said.

"I see now... You don't remember what I did because you _couldn't_ have."

Kyoko raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't have?"

Makoto shrugged. "You were preoccupied with calming Mondo down, so you didn't notice how I had stumbled away from the area and when. I left at around the same time Mondo freaked out. Not intentionally of course, because..."

Makoto paused to add dramatic flair. He noted a surprisingly tense expression on Byakuya's face––as if some unpleasant thought dawned on him––and was happy his pause elicited its intended reaction from at least one person.

"... I was walking around with a popcorn bag over my head."

The group, originally silent for politeness's sake, were now taciturn out of confusion. Makoto concluded his friends were trying to visualize the ridiculous image and failing. Lives perennially drenched in the surreal are no more resilient to additional absurdities, no how banal those absurdities are; this truth revealed itself when a group accustomed to a former serial killer couldn't quite comprehend the image. One member reacted differently, however.

"You," Byakuya spat. "It was you."

"It was me?" Makoto looked at Byakuya but quickly cowered back. Byakuya's scowl froze the hitherto warm air of the table. "H-hey Byakuya, did I d-do something wrong?..."

"Did you do something _wrong_? When you were bumbling about like the blind idiot you are, did you, oh, I don't know, bump into a person?"

"I... did do a lot of bumping into things that felt like people."

"I was minding my own business leaving when the game's conclusion was evident, but just what could happen to spoil my mood? Some imbecile with a popcorn bag over their head pushes me to the stadium's railings, making me drop my phone onto the ground level of the stadium! I would have stopped the fool dead in their tracks and ruined them if acquiring my phone wasn't the greater priority."

 _"Oh crap! I don't think I've seen Byakuya this livid!"_ Makoto thought, too frightened to speak at that moment. He regained his composure shortly thereafter, however. "It was completely my fault that happened. I didn't know what was going on at the time––I didn't even know why everything went dark––but that doesn't excuse my mistake. Since I damaged your property, I'll be happy to remunerate you with anything you'd like."

Byakuya shook his head. "The lowest appropriate price would be higher than your entire life earnings twice over. Therefore... I grant you clemency. Rejoice, for you have done nothing to earn this grace, popcorn head."

"P-popcorn head?!"

"There are some kernels of insight in your head, but they require external pressure far greater than anything you can muster in order to be realized. Apropos, isn't it?" Byakuya mocked.

"To be honest, I kind of like it!" Aoi said.

Hiro gave a thumbs up. "I'm down with it."

Toko nearly swooned."Master Byakuya, always so perceptive!"

"I'm not wholly against this nickname," Kyoko said, hiding a clear smile behind her hand.

Makoto sighed. "Whoopie, another nickname for me... Can I finish my story now? Following the changes of volume, I managed to find my way to the indoor section of the stadium. When I couldn't hear anyone around me, I felt relieved. I figured I could find out why I couldn't see anything and why everything smelled faintly of butter if I were someplace relatively isolated. Thinking I was alone, I tried to feel my face. Something happened, though: suddenly, cold hands gripped my shoulders, and as soon as I could recognize that someone was touching me, a massive force pushed me. In my panic, I tried finding something to stabilize myself. I got distracted, though; I heard a laugh, coming from nowhere because it was everywhere. It rang with a childlike glee: 'puhuhuhu'."

The shadows of the people and things around the table crawled, threatening to overtake the things in the light. Such a seizure would have been superfluous, however, for the disturbed expressions on everyone's face carried the same message of dread the darkness did. The ersatz laugh from Makoto was more than enough to summon the foul aura _she_ truly existed as, all within that instant before the group could even think. The origin of this pressure suffusing their presence with malevolence differed in response to the pressure, though. Makoto, who evoked Junko's evil, sat resilient to her––in fact, he had the serene countenance of a man who recalled a happy but lost time.

"I was saved, though. Just when I felt myself slip on my own feet, two warm hands held my chest and stopped my momentum. I wanted to remain still for a second or two to try and process what had occurred, but the warm hands lifted me up. When I was back on my feet, I got enough of my senses back to ask if anyone was there. I didn't get a response at first, but I felt a dull touch on my forehead. The touch became a deliberate tug, and with the tug came the lifting of my blindness. My eyes adjusted from the darkness to see Mukuro in front of me, a popcorn bag in her hand."

"Mukuro? You were saved by that crazy chick?" Hiro asked.

Makoto smiled, staring off into space. "I wanted to thank her for helping me, but I was still too embarrassed by the truth to really say much. While I was standing dumbstruck, Junko appeared from behind me and laughed. She and Mukuro weren't staying for the endgame celebration and were hanging out in the stadium when I stumbled in. Junko figured out it was me under that bag and decided to play a 'light-hearted prank' on me. The three of us talked for a bit, Mukuro making it clear that she also recognized me from under the bag but wanted to help instead. We parted ways, but not before Mukuro advised me to say that I went to the restroom if anyone asked where I went. I followed her advice, though a bit doubtful it would work. Now I see that it did."

"This certainly was a surprising story," Kyoko said.

"Surprising? Yes. Enlightening?" Byakuya grinned. "Also a yes."

"Heh, you don't know the half of it. Mukuro rescues me from off-the-wall scenarios all the time. This isn't even a story that describes us two well: it's too mundane, y'know? Like, there was this one time when I went to the medical bay..." Makoto rambled, stopping only when he realized his throat felt heavy.

Byakuya cleared his throat, regaining Makoto's attention. "In fact, I think your answer to my question has been so enlightening that I don't need to beat around the bush any longer."

Makoto gave Byakuya a stern look. "This is about the game, isn't it? So what was it supposed to accomplish?"

"Since you were forthcoming with results, I'll be forthcoming with explanations: I asked something I knew you'd relate back to Hope's Peak Academy because I wanted to see how you and the rest of your peers would discuss that thing without tainting the subject with the school's possible return. You all performed perfectly: the immediate talk pertaining to Hope's Peak was positive, with it remaining so very nostalgic throughout. In spite of the grim future you now know awaited most of your friends, you even spoke of them as if they were still living. Like it or not, you've defined Hope's Peak by its people, and you very much like them."

The reactions of the group to Byakuya's revelation varied: two were shocked, two were pensive, and one was entranced. Since Makoto played the most integral part of Byakuya's game, he figured he should be the one to draw it to a conclusion. Did he truly view Hope's Peak Academy as a net good? He would find out only if he pressed on.

"So, you're saying I liked Hope's Peak Academy more than I disliked it?"

"That I am."

"And that satisfaction came from the friends I made in Hope's Peak?"

"That seems evident: you even presented Junko and Mukuro as close friends. You should hate both of them, but here you are remembering their good over their bad."

"Mostly Mukuro, but even Junko had her moments... Why make this game, though? We all already made it clear we both wanted and not wanted Hope's Peak Academy to return, so elaborating more on what Hope's Peak meant for us doesn't really get us anywhere."

Byakuya shook his head. "It _does_ get us somewhere. How did you first feel when the conversation mentioned Hope's Peak?"

"... Happy. I was happy."

"Then we should support rebuilding Hope's Peak Academy."

"What?"

"It's something you pick up from business: when there is no one rational option, go with your first response."

Makoto's stern face quivered into a confused expression. "Wait just a second, earlier today you seemed to take the opposite stance about Hope's Peak Academy. You were the one proclaiming it was a failure that should be put to rest. If I'm right, opposing the plan was your gut feeling, so why are you now going against your gut?"

"Ah, but wasn't it you who recognized I made an error in not admitting I was ambivalent? You see, I completely tricked myself into thinking I had a firm stance on the issue. When you and Kyoko showed me this mistake, I had to laugh for two reasons: one, it was just like old times; two, my first response to Hope's Peak Academy when I understood that I had no clear position was positive. Honestly, for the 'ultimate hope', you should be less cautious about taking leaps of faith."

"But what about the downsides? The system could be abused so easily..."

"It's not going to be easy, but we've taken risks before. Besides, we can use those downsides to guide our rebuilding. If the reserve course created an unsustainable pyramid system, find alternative sources of funding. If the school's environment placed a great amount of stress on vulnerable people, make sure to provide exemplary mental health facilities for those people. If anyone commits a serious crime, don't try and save face by hiding their offenses."

Makoto grabbed his chin. A solid minute passed before he interacted with the world again. He glimpsed at Kyoko for a moment. She looked resolutely at him. He stood in his seat now, and in spite of his diminutive build, he radiated with a brilliance like the sun's.

"We have some say in the Future Foundation's plans: if we want Hope's Peak Academy to come back, then we're going to let them know how we want it to be reopened. I want Hope's Peak Academy to return––and not for any logical or obvious reason. It's just where my heart leads me to. Kyoko and Byakuya are here with me, but it just isn't right if we're not all in this together. So, who's with us?"

* * *

An hour ago, six graduates of Hope's Peak Academy unanimously agreed to rebuild the school with their own hands. As Makoto lay on his hotel bed, still wearing the suit he had already slept in, he looked at his ceiling. The ceiling fan spun in mechanical perfection above him, clicking and altering the lighting of the room in a now familiar pattern. The pillow below his head must have been made of clouds, for it had been a while since he had rested his head on something so soft.

The party, after making their pact, all acknowledged that it had been a long day. Lassitude had swept through even the more nocturnal or active ones, as both Aoi and Kyoko yawned during the drive to the hotel. Makoto's migraine, once a background nuisance, now was an obnoxious pecking. Once again, he could feel the walls of order decay and the obsidian goo from which all dreams bubble from ooze into his mind.

Makoto welcomed his approaching Slumber. Some of his best thinking happened during the periods immediately preceding and succeeding sleep, and the period when he was asleep contained so many avenues for escapism. He couldn't count the number of dreams, for example, where he was a space traveler who saved planets and discovered hundreds of alien societies. Perhaps it was due to his worldly nature, but his favorite dreams were not as grandiose in their substance. In fact, he thought in a daze as he slowly closed his eyes, his favorite dream was now a reality.

If Hope's Peak Academy were to ever exist again, Makoto wished it would only be so if all fifteen of his friends approved of it. Five of them vocalized their affirmation, but he realized there was more to the decision than just the five he heard. As he recalled the ten friends who did not have voices, he sensed an intensity which surpassed mere voice. They all persisted inside him, energized and opinionated, and they all agreed with the decision. His last thoughts before he met Slumber were jubilant: Sixteen students entered the school just before its death, and sixteen friends would leave its ruins to make a new home.

 **Prologue: In Search of Lost Friends**

 **END**


	2. Pitiful Students and Pendulous Despair

**Notes:** Hello again, readers! I hope you enjoyed the prologue, for the real story is about to unfold! This chapter was fun to write, and I'm surprised it came out the size it did! I was expecting to go over 7,000 words, but I managed to maintain some brevity. Plus, I can finally begin to write as my OCs!

Oh, Danganronpa 3, how I await your arrival! If all goes well, we might both hit our strides at the same time! But enough about the future: now, let the curtains rise on our story!

* * *

 **Chapter I: Pitiful Students and Pendulous Despair**

Dream eyes opened and peered across an abyss. Floating steadily within the uniform darkness were two hands, the eyes saw below them, and a clothed body, which were all assumed, due to the eyes' natural habit of creating relations and unity with questionable veracity, to be pieces of a dominant whole. The eyes wished to scrutinize the hands, and the hands obliged them in a surprisingly intuitive fashion. The eyes noted how familiar the smooth white hands looked. The hands, on a whim, tried to touch the eyes, but were stopped by a warm and tacitly pleasing surface. That touch created an identity for the hands, the eyes, and the body; the touch created a reality that believed itself to be a person named Makoto Naegi.

Makoto, aware only of himself and the void, drifted along in the barren expanse, figuring in his stupor that he needed nothing more than the flow. Somewhere in the vast emptiness, though, sparked a glow. Its emergence came silently, and its saffron color hovered unerringly. He saw the light, but he could not be motivated to reflect on it. Given an infinite amount of time, even if he chose to go on a blind and thoughtless journey, fraught with myriad setbacks and irrational stops, he would reach any point or location, especially any in this dreamscape. The light would reveal its nature eventually, so, in the meantime, he chose to continue on whatever path the nothingness moved him to.

In what may have been a second or an eternity––for time was a frivolous concept in this primordial plane––Makoto's aimless existence became unexpectedly directed. He felt a great force pulling him into the light that, in his confusion, he could only understand as something akin to the suction of a monumental vortex. The light twinkled, its sparkling resembling long arms reaching out to grasp his vision. It was only when those spectral limbs overtook his sights that he could begin to piece together what the radiance was. When the conclusion struck him, the violent suction seemed pygmy next to it.

Floating in the darkness was a beautiful Hope's Peak Academy, its gate open and refulgent. So great was its presence, Makoto could not even blink when he shot into its gate and was consumed by the illumination. He thus could not prevent himself from seeing the infinite sea he had been submerged into vanish to reveal a black wood ceiling that was much too damp and absent a household ceiling fan to be the roof of his hotel room. He stared mindlessly at the holed wood.

"Wait..." Makoto murmured. His hazel eyes glistened as his voice quaked. " _What...?_ "

* * *

Makoto wobbled into a seated position, aware with primitive irritation of a sore back. He would have massaged it, were his mind not quickly returning from a daze due to the strange circumstances he had woken into. He observed what was in front of him: a floor identical to the roof stretched out to a similar wall with a worn door in the middle. The door looked makeshift, and its splintered wood and hole in place of a door handle made it clear that the door had fallen into disrepair. Darkness obscured what was behind the door's hole.

Makoto stiffened, too focused on his surroundings to close his jaw. Where was he, if he clearly was not in his hotel room? More importantly, how did he get here––and when did he get here? He reviewed his memories but couldn't find any evidence which explained or otherwise foreshadowed this unnatural development. He rested his head on his hand.

Yes, this was all just too unnatural, he reassured himself: If a transition from a mundane world to a transcendent dreamscape to a foreboding room is too bizarre, then surely he must still he dreaming. Indeed, the fluidity of each step in his journey seemed so uninterrupted and natural that such a sequence of events could only manifest in a wholly unnatural fantasy. He had created more outrageous dreams in the past, and he was prone to lucid dreaming––how implausible was it that he could be experiencing a combination of these two factors?

He shook his head, and he was about to chuckle until he caught a glimpse of the room's corners. To his left, a figure with blond hair lay on the floor; to his right, a body with lavender hair rested on the floor. He leaped to his feet, ignoring how numb they felt, and rushed to the right corner. Not in any second of his dash did he ever move his sights away from the body. His breath hastened as he kneeled to inspect it with shaky hands.

Kyoko Kirigiri lay in a slight fetal position. Her appearance had not changed from that now distant reunion, down to her delicate coating of makeup. She was simply asleep, and, from her soft breathing to the controlled rising and falling of her chest, it appeared to be a peaceful sleep.

A relieved smile appeared on Makoto's face as he observed his friend's captivating serenity. He hesitated for a moment before concern for the person behind him compelled him to press a hand on her cool shoulder. A single eye opened sluggishly and tracked its vision to the hand.

"Ma... Makoto?" Kyoko's scrunched her nose in an almost childlike expression. "What are you... doing in my room?"

"H-hey, it's not what you think!" Makoto yipped. He shook off his fluster and offered his hand to Kyoko. "Listen, you and I aren't in our hotel anymore. I don't know what's going on, but we're not the only ones here. We need to reunite with the rest of the group."

Kyoko did a cursory scan of the room, but it was enough to evoke a vigor in her eyes Makoto hadn't seen since the killing game. Her alertness surprised Makoto almost as much as her firm grip did when she pulled him up more than he lifted her up. "It's never a boring day when you're nearby. Let's go."

The two headed to the left corner of the room. It was immediately apparent that the blond person was Byakuya Togami and that, in spite of his uncharacteristically gentle features, he was very much alive. Looking around the room, the two also saw through the transparent darkness Aoi Asahina and Yasuhiro Hagakure resting in the last two corners.

"Get up, Byakuya," Kyoko said.

The moderate volume of her voice awakened Byakuya with a grumble. "Is there any particular reason you disturbed me or are you louts simply amusing your––This isn't my room." He held his chin. "There's something wrong here. What's going on?"

"That's what we're trying to find out. Aoi and Hiro are here too, so let's get them," Makoto replied.

Byakuya raised himself up and led the two to Aoi. He motioned towards her, and Makoto got down and woke her up.

"Why thank you Michael Phelps, but that swimming was just a fraction of my full power––Eep! M-Makoto?! Did I crash somewhere weird?" Aoi blushed.

"In a way. I'll explain once we wake Hiro up. I'd do it myself, but I'm afraid he'll mistake me for a hitman and pummel me, so can you take this one?" Makoto pointed behind himself.

Aoi nodded and started walking to Hiro, though a glance around the room was enough to slow her gait to a crawl. She poked Hiro, who jumped in the air and assumed an odd pose.

"I told you I don't know any Yasuhiro Hagakure, so back off!" Hiro glanced around himself and relaxed. "Oh, hey guys. What's up?"

"It seems," Byakuya readjusted his glasses, "like we may be in a pickle."

"Y-yeah... Um, this is some kind of joke you're playing, right Makoto...?" Aoi asked. "Y-you just wanted to make the reunion memorable, right...?"

"Afraid not..." Makoto frowned. "I just woke up in the middle of this room and saw Kyoko and Byakuya in the corners of the room. I don't remember anything suspicious before I woke up here: I was tired, so I rested on my bed. I feel a bit sore on my back, but that's about it––and in some ways, that's the most worrisome part." His friends stared at him throughout the account and were quiet afterward.

Aoi shivered. "This isn't real... This is just like––Just like the killing ga––"

"No!" Hiro yelled. "T-think about this: we all have an empathetic bond with each other, right? There're tons of stories of people with strong relationships sharing the same dream, so that must be it! You're all part of my bad dream!"

"Hiro, that 'shared' dream sounds awfully self-centered..." Makoto said.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Byakuya interrupted, "but where is Toko? If all five of us are here, then she should surely be here as well."

Makoto gulped. He was fighting the urge to put his hands on his head; so far, he was successful in that endeavor, but only because his hands were stilling his jittery legs. He couldn't focus on his friends' reactions, but he guessed they also were not receiving the question well.

Kyoko put her foot on the floor, causing a solid click to echo throughout the room. "Before we search for her, I want to check on something quick." She looked to Makoto. "I know it's hard not to worry, but we need to learn about our circumstances so we can better assess Toko's and work from there. It's not your fault she's missing right now."

"... Yeah, I know. Ok, first do what you need to do, then we go searching for Toko," Makoto said weakly. The rest of the group nodded.

Kyoko opened her blazer and scurried her fingers through it, pulling out a small gemstone from a hidden compartment. She then rolled her sleeves up and made a deft analysis of her wrists. Finishing there, she took off her boots and checked her ankles. Once she seemed satisfied with a personal inspection, she repeated the same process, minus the jacket search, on the others with masterful speed. Even Byakuya, who appeared hostile when it was his turn, seemed content with the benign inspection. Everyone's limbs appeared normal.

Kyoko rubbed the gemstone in her hand. "I see... It's not what I would have hoped, but I suspect our arrival here was very recent and underwhelming."

"Well, how did you come to that conclusion?" Byakuya inquired, raising an eyebrow at Kyoko.

"Our arms and legs have no rope burns or other signs of restriction. This likely means we weren't tied up and brought here. Additionally," Kyoko showed the gem to everyone, "this gem proves I'm wearing, at the minimum, the same jacket I wore during our reunion."

"How does a little thing like that prove you're wearing the same clothing?" Makoto asked.

"I customize every one of my uniforms with a unique accessory. After what happened with our memories, I had to take some precaution for the possibility of my memory slipping again. So, I now have a system wherein, whenever I doubt my account of time, I check the accessory inside my current uniform and compare it to the accessory of the uniform I last remember wearing. If they don't match, I can be a bit more certain that either my abductors redressed me––possible, but unlikely, given that they shouldn't know my secret––or that I myself must have changed uniforms sometime in-between. If they're the same... Well, it probably means that, unless my suit is worn and dirty, little time has passed." Kyoko replied. "It's not a perfect solution, but it's an easy workaround."

"So," Aoi gripped one of her arms, "does that mean... you're saying we all just got here? Like, we weren't even dragged violently, weren't messed with to make us forget something like two whole years...?"

"Like I said, it's not an answer I want, but the evidence favors it. Until further evidence emerges, we have to entertain the possibility that we just got here through some unknown means."

The floor greeted Makoto's vision, but its presence did not ground him from this absurdity. A potential answer to the question of his transportation into this lurid room emerged, with an unsettling corollary sprouting from its trunk: if he could get here in a night's rest, what did it say about his captors? He didn't want to think about it or about its credibility, but he had too. Kyoko was a far braver person than he was if she would deduce an outcome that unnerving with nothing but an understanding of feckless memory and a simple gem. If he could think of someone whose memory may be unaltered, he could ask them to remember; then, maybe he too could cross the bridge Kyoko passed...

"Maybe... Maybe we can ask Jack..." Makoto muttered.

Hiro ran to face Makoto and give him a panicked shake. "You want to ask _that_ psycho?! Oh hell no! She may be tamed, but so are circus elephants, and they kill people!"

"I believe there is a reason Makoto would ask this," Byakuya said. "Jack's memories proved useful to us in the past, so we may need her assistance once again. I say we stop standing around in this room and find Toko."

"Taking the initiative and pursuing her trail? Perhaps her feelings are reciprocated after all," Kyoko declared irreverently. She kept her sights towards the door and strolled towards it, brushing Makoto's hand as she passed.

"... I sometimes question whether quitting the killing game was the right choice," Byakuya growled. He neither noticed nor cared to notice Kyoko had already reached the door. He also didn't notice a now giggling Makoto.

"Ok, operation, 'reunite the inseparable pair', begins now!" Makoto crouch-walked to the door, his breathing uncontrolled and his face red. Aoi and Hiro were right behind him, joining along in the band of laughter.

Meanwhile, Kyoko hid, behind a turned back, a satisfied smile.

* * *

The dark, blank room exited to a pitch-black stairway. With every hazardous step Makoto took down a stairway where extending his arm was enough to obfuscate it in an obsidian veil, he heard the sharp creaks of the wooden steps gradually metamorphose into visceral squeaks. He stared at the homogenous pattern of gnawed black wood succeeding gnawed black wood and clung to the flimsy railings.

"So... um... why are the steps making those noises...?" Makoto asked. A pregnant cacophony of splats and drips was the only response he received.

An indeterminate amount of time elapsed until the stairway ended its descent on a short landing with dimensions exact to another door in front of the group, save for the looming roof that expanded past eyesight. The door stood out from the previous one and from the entirety of the structure: its yellow exterior spiraled to form its corners, a distinct but obscure metal composed its curved door handle, and paint coated its panel so thoroughly as to make the door resemble a tranquil, red pool. Makoto was relieved the floor sounded normal again, but the door perturbed him.

Kyoko, who lead the careful descent, walked to the door with an abrupt briskness. She examined the door, then turned around to face the party. "Makoto, you take the door," she ordered.

"W-why me?! That door isn't inviting in the least!" Makoto screamed.

"Yes, but you seem to have a knack for surviving ominous doors. Plus, you're a man, right? You should be able to handle this just fine," Kyoko said.

"Ok, can we cut with the 'he's a man, so he's suited for this' stuff?! Look, you think Byakuya and Hiro won't protest––" Makoto turned his hands towards the two males behind him: Hiro was cowering behind an unimpressed Aoi, and Byakuya faced away from him, cleaning his spotless glasses. "––this. Wow, what great and courageous friends I'm so lucky to have." He stomped towards the door. "Step aside, ladies, the _man_ will deal with this."

Makoto's hand chilled when it made contact with the cool handle. Turning the handle slowly, he noticed that no sound emanated from within the door as he opened it. He was cognizant of his success only when the handle would not rotate further and the forward force he exerted caused the door to move ever so slightly. With bated breath, he strengthened his push and revealed what existed beyond the door.

* * *

"Seriously, what _is_ this place?..."

The door opened to an outdoors drenched in a dreary atmosphere. Amorphous streaks of massive clouds congealed into a completely ashen sky, save for one odd bloat of dull white to Makoto's right, suggestive of the sun or the moon. Below the nebulous sky stood a symmetrical arrangement of rectangular brick buildings around a path paved by jagged stones. A dearth of sound permeated through the stagnant locale, from the opaque windows on the third floor of each building to the landing covered with translucent slime just below his feet. From the exit, he could not feel any breeze, yet his skin still registered a change in temperature from the interior's confined cold to the greater environment's expansive tepidness.

Makoto hoped that, this time, anyone would answer the question he had raised primarily for himself. He did not move an inch, not even as he felt his friends lightly push him for a few seconds before relenting. The strange place invaded his senses throughout the indefinite pause.

Perhaps as a malicious twisting of his desires, fate would grant Makoto a galvanizing reply. Down the left path of the gradually curving road and behind the buildings echoed a ghastly cackle with properties of the familiar. Mirthful and deranged, the cackle overthrew the moribund silence permeating the town. His mind recognized the laugh, and it spurred him to jump to the pavement.

"Guys! That laugh is––" Makoto began.

"It's Jack's! We have to check it out!" Aoi declared as she sprinted through the doorway and blurred past Makoto, disappearing in a matter of seconds.

"... Is running down a creepy road like that smart?" Hiro asked.

Byakuya casually stepped through the door and followed Aoi. "No. No it isn't. But that is Jack's laugh... Much as I would rather run the opposite direction of it, we need her help. Come along now and hope Aoi attracts whatever danger may be down the path."

The group walked down the increasingly foggy street, still surrounded by dark buildings of unknown purpose and occupants. Just as the curving of the road dwindled, a running noise escaped the fog. Kyoko stopped first and steadied herself, with the rest of the group following suit. Makoto prepared for the worst as signs of movement became visible ahead of him. In a flash, Aoi materialized from the fog and nearly slid on the wet stone as she stopped in front of the group, gasping for air.

"Aoi, what did you find?" Kyoko held the shaking Aoi.

"J-Jack! She's fighting––she's fighting some monster! B-but it's––I can't believe something could be so fast!"

"Oh no... oh no! We got to go save her!" Makoto yelled, running past Aoi and disappearing into the fog. He swore he heard Kyoko shout his name, but his mind was set on Toko. He burst through more of the haze, hearing distant footsteps behind him and what sounded like clanking and shrill snarling ahead him. He came to a halt as he reached the source of the sounds, looking onward with a fearful countenance.

Genocide Jack crouched lithely a few feet away from him, her scissors glistening on her fingers and a reptilian tongue wriggling into what could only be described as an expression of maniacal glee. Her feverish eyes met Makoto's.

"Ehhhhh~? BIG MAC! It's been awhile, ole' buddy of mine! You caught me in a bit of a bad time, but it's nice to see you're hanging in there! KYEHAHAHAHA!" Jack spun her scissors excitedly.

Makoto clenched his fist and waved his hand out. "Jack! I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm so glad you're safe! Where's the monster?! Did you beat it, or do you need help distracting it?!"

"Aw, are you about to confess your undying affection for moi? Oh, you're so valiant I'm having a hard time containing myself!... Ah, the monster? Well, it's not really a monster––unless you wet your bed at the thought of watching a mummy movie––but that bandage face is being a real pain! Good thing you have them preoccupied already! You don't need to do any more distracting if my aim is juuusst right..."

"H-hey hey, what do you mean I have them preoccupied...? What's all this about bandages and mummies and––please stop aiming at me!"

"Fine, fine. Missing out on a perfect shot though!" Jack feinted a throw. "Well, remember when I said you were hanging in there?"

"Y-yeah...?"

"Yeaaahhh, I was kind of being literal."

It suddenly dawned on Makoto that he was slanted at an angle sufficient for a painful introduction to the ground. The pathetic gyrations of his arms only stopped when he understood that he wasn't in the middle of falling. He breathed out in relief, only for that relief to change into shock as a pull on his back neck put him on his feet. His palms were sweaty as he inched around to where the pull came from.

A humanoid stood over Makoto at an uncomfortably close distance. Layers of white bandage wrapped around them, masking their head and body. They wore a tattered open longcoat over khakis, boots, and black gloves. The sole human aspect of the figure was an unwrapped right eye, pale blue and looking down upon him. He stared back.

"..."

"..."

"... You're acquainted with her." The figure slowly pointed to Jack's location, their gaze unmoving. Makoto did not realize the monotonous murmur originated from the figure until he noted the subtle motions, unique from the otherwise regularly dimensioned and inert wrappings, underneath the bandages where a mouth should be.

"Um... Y-yes I am," Makoto stammered.

"... Not denying it?"

"I... She's a friend of mine, and you were attacking her. Why should I deny it when she's in danger? If you're going to try and hurt her, I have to do what I can." Furrows appeared on his head.

Neither Makoto nor the figure partook in any activity that did not involve an acute observation of the other. Jack, who was poised for combat, stayed silent outside of a making a mocking yawn somewhere in the middle of stare down. If the two heard her yawn, they did not react to it. Eventually, though, Makoto's frown eased.

"So, why did you break my fall?" Makoto asked graciously.

The figure's eye widened, then closed. "... It was the right thing to do. I think you'll agree with––"

Before the figure finished speaking, they disappeared faster than Makoto could blink. Confused, he glanced around the perimeter of the street until he caught sight of the figure, vigilant and intimidating, on top of one of the buildings to his right. He stepped back and gazed with breathless awe at the figure. Then, Kyoko and the rest of the group came running into the tense sense.

"Makoto! Dude, try and not split with the group next time, alright?!" Hiro waved at Makoto. "Yo, you still with us man?"

"MASSSTER BYAKUYAAAAAA! My walking aphrodisiac! Now, ravish me with your scathing words, enthrall my mind with your throbbing manhood!" Jack darted to Byakuya's side.

"... Hello to you too, Jack." Byakuya groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"State your business here," the figure demanded. Their voice roared down the enclosed street, portentous of ambiguous intent. All of the group started watching the figure, save for Kyoko and Makoto, who were already observing them beforehand. "You are friends with Jack. Are you also violent?"

Kyoko crossed her arms. "We have no intention of harming anyone. We just appeared here, so we're trying to find out what's going on. Jack may know more about this situation, so we've been searching for her. Restraining her won't be necessary––we've got her under control."

"Yes," Byakuya pushed Jack's embrace away from his arm, "completely under control..."

"An inexplicable arrival?..." The figure turned its head slightly left and looked off to somewhere. "... Do you recognize the phrase, 'Hope's Peak Academy'?"

"Hope's Peak Academy?" Makoto's eyes glinted. "Yes! We're former students of Hope's Peak!" From his vision's extremities, he saw his friends cast a disapproving glance at him.

"... Your other friend is honest." The figure descended the building as suddenly as they ascended it. "Follow me. Question Jack, but maintain peace."

"Before we follow you," Kyoko voice wavered in pitch, "can I ask why you and Jack fought?"

The figure averted eye contact. "... It was no fight. She wandered through while I was watching this path. She looked frightened, so I approached. Unfortunately, I intimidated her: she pulled a taser and shocked herself. I did not know what to make of it. Then she rose up and attacked. I dodged and evaluated her." They glared at Jack. "Blood taints you, Genocide Jack. Justice will punish what I must spare."

"Chump! I'm way over my BLOODLUST FEVER phase! Plus, that was just a test drive––a revving up of my psychotic vengeance! You wanna dance again, I'll cut those bandages into ribbons before you can run home to your mommy, mummy!" Jack's tongue coiled as if it were leering at the figure.

"That would be _unwise_." The figure's coat bristled with a mysterious energy.

Byakuya snorted. "Jack, cease this nonsense and kneel before me. Your master requires knowledge."

Jack's tongue lay on a stone, longing to slither closer to Byakuya's feet. "Huhu, doggy style... perfect for a bitch like me. What do you need?"

"We've been investigating the circumstances behind our strange presence here, and our current theory is that we were transported here directly after our reunion. This would mean that our memories have not been tampered with and no significant amount of time has passed. Since you and Toko don't share memories, you may remember something we don't. So, what is the last thing you remember?" Byakuya commanded.

"I was in a hotel room making scissors. My better half went to bed at midnight, so I was free to make up for lost time––And lost scissors! Let me be the first to say, travel security are a bunch of lameasses! You go in carrying your handmade, exquisitely crafted weapons near and dear to your lady bits, and they just go 'yap yap security risk yap yap'! Least, that's all the details Toko gave me, and she likes to yap too... What was I saying again? Oh right! I made scissors until 2 A.M., when I needed to get some snoozes. I lie on my bed, feeling ever so lonely without beautiful master next to me, and the next thing I know I'm making fighting eyes with mummy! That's all I've got, loves!"

"I see... Jack, you've served your purpose. Go away." Byakuya waved his hand.

"No need to rush things! She'll be back in three... two... one." Jack started convulsing at the end of the countdown, relaxing flat on the pavement after it was over. Her body then lifted itself up, revealing Toko's modest features.

"I-is it over? To give Jack some credit, she makes for a fantastic attack dog––" She froze at the figure standing in front of her. "Oh. This isn't good."

"... I apologize for earlier. Are you hurt?" The figure scanned Toko's body.

"W-what, suddenly grew a heart for the loser you scared? Think redemption is something that easy to obtain? I-If you're talking about the taser, don't worry. It's my way of taming her." Toko pointed at the figure. "A-and stop ogling me, you pervert! My body is the property of one man, and that's not you! If you even are a man... You could just be some kinky butch too..."

"...?" The figure tilted their head. "The man you seek is behind you."

"You think I'd fall for an elementary school trick like that?" Toko sniffed the air, then bolted around. "Oh, you were right! Master Byakuya, m-my hero! I thought I would travel this terrible terrain 'til my hair grew gray and weary wrinkles weathered away my features, but, like Orpheus, you have come to rescue me from this––"

"Shut up." Toko remained silent after Byakuya's demand. "Now, how did you get here?"

"I woke up in front of a strange door. I was drowsy, so I just decided to open it and continue down a flight of stairs on the other side. I opened another door at the end of the stairs and saw this place. I was confused and scared, so I wanted to find you or anyone else. I walked for a while until that thing emerged from the fog. I didn't want to take any chances, so I summoned Jack. Now I'm here."

"Well, at least that explains why you weren't with us. You weren't awake enough to check the room and find us," Aoi said.

"So... the gang's all here, huh? Wonderful, this can only mean we're part of something awful." Toko sighed.

"... You are not alone. Come with me: I have got something I want to show you." The figure began walking down the path. "... Plus, you will need protection in this unusual land."

Makoto followed the figure, even though his friends did not.

"Hey, by the way," Makoto smiled at the figure, "I almost forgot to say thank you. I'm a bit of a klutz when I'm not devoting my attention to balance. Really, Toko should thank you, too: you were just trying to help. Course, I'd be scared too if I woke up in this place alone. Guess we can just chalk this fiasco up to poor communication, huh?"

"... I suppose you could." The figure marched on.

"So, um, why did you ask about Hope's Peak Academy? Seems like a random question." He kept his pace.

"You'll learn soon enough." The figure slowed down.

"Hm... I guess I will!" He also slowed down.

"You're cooperative. That's... nice." The figure put their hands in their pockets.

"Is it? I don't see what's so special about it." He put his hands on the back of his neck.

"... Get your friends." The figure stopped in place.

He looked behind himself. " Huh. It's a strange day when I'm consistently the bravest of the bunch. I'll be back with them."

He ran back off into the fog, finding his friends a little while later. "Hey, guys! Get over here already!"

"Makoto, it might do you well to think things through before you follow someone like that in a place like this," Kyoko said.

Makoto tilted his head. "No, I think we can trust them."

"You just met them."

"Well, true. But..." he grinned, "you were in their position not too long ago."

"... That person was right." Kyoko shook her head as she started walking towards him. "You are honest. And you never learn from your mistakes."

"Guilty as charged. Now, let's see what that person has to show us."

* * *

When the group arrived at the figure's destination, many points of intrigue appeared. The road broadened out to form what may have been a town circle, with two other roads connecting to it. At the heart of the circle was a grand fountain, which flowed water through alien figurines. To the left stood a red tower which scraped the sky with its pointed roof and had a blackened bell resting in a cavity near its top. To the right, there were two wooden building connected by an integrated balcony. At the far end of the circle was a long stone edifice with rows of indented pillars supporting its triangular roof. Most noteworthy of all were the nine people dotting the circle's area.

One of these people, a bespectacled, well-dressed boy with slicked brown hair, stood a few meters from the group. He had watched the group's approach with a curious expression, and when they had stopped, he walked up to the figure.

"Newcomers? I trust you've deemed them safe to bring here?" the boy asked.

"The girl over there may require supervision, but I think we can trust them," The figure replied, pointing to Toko.

"S-supervision?!" Toko muttered. "You don't even feel shame for saying that near me, do you? Typical..."

"... Hm. She seems nice enough." The boy shrugged. "You aren't usually this lenient unless you're dealing with Hide, though. What's special about these people?"

"I think it's best if you figure that out yourself," the figure said, their voice notably brighter. "You might be in for a pleasant surprise."

"Really now?" The boy raised an eyebrow. "Interesting... alright, I'll humor you."

The boy met the group. He stood in front of Byakuya, whom he was only barely shorter than.

"You look like the authority among your companions," the boy said.

"And you appear to be perceptive." Byakuya couldn't hold back a grin, even as the rest of the group (save Toko) rolled their eyes.

"That insignia..." The boy's sight was drawn to the symbol on Byakuya's suit. "You're part of the Future Foundation, as are the rest of you."

"Right you are. Future Foundation, 14th division, Byakuya Togami."

"Togami? Yes, of course! The Togami family's influence extends even to the Future Foundation... truly, a most worthy dynasty."

"An immutable truth that needs little repeating. But what makes you think you're even fit to describe my lineage?"

"I have the credentials." The boy smiled. "One more thing, though: if you are part of the Future Foundation, then it's safe to say you are related to Hope's Peak Academy, right? Are you a graduate from there?"

"Of a fashion, though I didn't so much graduate from Hope's Peak as it collapsed on itself without my direct guidance." Byakuya sighed. "If you must know, I am part of the 78th class. In fact, all of us are members of that class."

The boy reeled back, his mouth open. "I-impossible... _the_ 78th class? I've heard... I've written so many things about you... and here you are?!"

Byakuya glowered at the now prostrate boy. "Oh get up, you lamb. If I needed fawning idiots, I'd stroll down Wall Street. Yes, I survived the killing game and ended the ultimate despair's miserable life––can we be done with this?"

"R-right, my apologies," the boy stood back up, brushing some dirt off of his suit, "it's just... you see..."

"Yes? What is it?"

"... I'm also a student of Hope's Peak Academy. Well, more accurately, my peers and I are all going to be students at Hope's Peak Academy."

"Wait..." Byakuya paused.

" _What...?_ " Makoto thought.

"Yes, it looks like the honor of hosting one Hope's Peak class falls on an up-and-coming Hope's Peak class. So, welcome to this strange seaside town. I'm Takato Abe, the Ultimate Editorialist of Hope's Peak Academy's 79th class."


	3. Chapter 1: Part II

**Notes:** Hello once again, dear readers! Now, this chapter was a blast to write-and that fact probably explains its length! It's time to meet the rest of the cast, who you can all expect to live uneventful lives, grow old, and look back on this and laugh. Scout's honor on that declaration! Do tell me your opinions on the new students: who do you take a liking to? In a completely hypothetical scenario where they have to participate in a killing game, who'd be the first one to go and the first one to do the dirty deed? It's important to note that the 78th class is not exempt from that game, either...

On a more (or less) serious note, Danganronpa 3 in four more days! Rejoice, for the hype is real! I'm still going to write even as the anime is airing, but I can't promise you that I won't be distracted by it!

Now then, let's begin!

* * *

Makoto wanted to run; unfortunately, his stiff body trapped him in place. His gut churned while his mind fluttered from explanation to explanation regarding the dramatic revelation.

"Takato Abe... Tell me more about yourself." Byakuya pushed his glasses up with a trembling hand.

"Well, I would love to, but," Takato looked at the faces of the group and frowned, "something seems to be troubling you. Did I offend in any way?"

Toko, her face red, pointed a finger at Takato. "Offend? You think you can just up and claim you're a member of a class that _doesn't exist_ and not offend us?!"

"... You don't hold your tongue." Takato smirked. "As expected of miss Toko Fukawa!"

"How do you know who I am?!" Toko screamed, specks of spit bulleting from her mouth.

"Comes with the trade. I've written a few reviews of your romance novels. Call me a fan." Takato seemed unaffected by the small stains coating his suit.

Up closer, Makoto had to appreciate Takato's debonair qualities. Takato wore a dark brown suit with a red waistcoat, trousers, dress shoes, and a white dress shirt. Adroit hands must have tied his brown tie, and a conspicuous watch ticked away on his right wrist. Makoto couldn't shake the feeling that Takato looked a bit too young for his clothing, though: his baby-face and round, pinkish-blue eyes seemed better suited in something less professional.

"F-fan, huh...?" Toko pushed her two index fingers together and looked down. "D-don't think I'm going to give you a free autograph, or something. You still haven't answered my question, too!"

Takato chuckled, then pulled out a folded paper from his jacket. "Then I'll consider it a goal to earn your autograph. Firstly, I'll address your question: read this, and it should inform you of everything you need to know." He handed the paper to Byakuya, who hesitated before taking it.

"... 'Dear **Takato Abe** ,'" Byakuya read aloud, "'We of the Future Foundation have found your accomplishments to be signs of a great potential to aid humanity. In our turbulent era, a new generation of leaders must be cultivated to build a shining future dreamed of since the dawn of time. Given that need, it is our pleasure to inform you that you have been selected to attend the restored Hope's Peak Academy as a member of the 79th class, designated as **The Ultimate Editorialist**. Bear in mind that the reopening of Hope's Peak Academy has yet to be publicly revealed, so it would be best if you do not reveal the contents of this letter unless approached by members of the Future Foundation. We will contact you again when everything is finalized; until then, we hope you will cherish this opportunity to open the door to a shining future.'" He paused. "'Sincerely, Kazuo Tengan.'"

No one made a noise as Byakuya's speech spread and dissipated through the air. Makoto remembered that dreadful article in the silence, its account less prophetic and more spurious regarding the actual progress made by the Future Foundation, and gritted his teeth. Even now, he was still an ignorant pawn of a greater authority. He looked at Takato with narrow eyes, and stood silent. Takato caught a glimpse of Makoto during the silence and lowered his smile.

"... Heh." Makoto let out a sudden, soft laugh. "Maybe this is... exactly where we needed to be."

"What are you getting at?" Takato asked.

"We didn't have much of a clue about the Future Foundation's plans for Hope's Peak Academy. The higher-ups didn't trust us––maybe for good reason, though that's another story for another day––but we made up our minds about rebuilding Hope's Peak together. I guess they were one step ahead of us... But, you know, I think we can offer our input in a more direct way." He smiled, his eyes clear and filled with life. "I'm Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Lucky Student of the 78th class. Whatever's going on, I'm here to help."

Slowly but surely, the others of the group started to straighten up, readjust themselves, and look at Takato with emboldened features. Takato, for his part, couldn't hide back a toothy smile. Even the figure, who had eyed the conversation from a comfortable distance away, may have then trotted to the group with some spring in their step.

Takato turned his head to Kyoko. "Your friend there is... infectious. I somehow doubt he's _just_ the ultimate lucky student."

"Believe me, I think so too," Kyoko said. "I'm Kyoko Kirigiri, The Ultimate Detective."

"I'm Aoi Asahina, The Ultimate Swimming Pro!"

"You ever need a fortune, come see me: The Ultimate Clairvoyant, Yasuhiro Hagakure!"

* * *

"So, what makes you above and beyond the common editorialist?" Byakuya asked expectantly.

"It's something of a long story," Takato began, walking at the front of the group to the central fountain occupied by three faces. "I suppose I was born with a love for politics and a talkative nature: I started reading news magazines at around six, and I was always struck by the ignorance endemic in the medium's writers. On a whim, I sent a letter to The New York Times detailing my critique of one of their featured opinion pieces regarding a political event when I was twelve. They liked it––enough to insist I keep writing from them. From then on, other news outlets fought to have my writings appear on their publications. The rest is history."

"Twelve?! isn't that a bit young for a kid to talk politics? I still feel like that stuff goes over my head!" Aoi rubbed her head in jest.

"Well, I don't think it quite compares to being a literary star before middle school," Takato replied, glancing at Toko. Her expression could best be described as miffed.

Byakuya smirked. "Hmph... I suppose that's adequate. You don't seem unintelligent, even though I haven't come across your name in my readings. Then again, I don't care for the majority of news outlets."

"You and I don't inhabit the same spheres of power yet, so I'm not surprised you aren't aware of me. I intend to make my way up in the world, though..." Takato stared off into space.

Makoto was to the side of the group, and he listened to Takato's self-summary with a preoccupied mind. He was sure Takato had much more to elaborate on, but he also had to gauge anything of interest about the three individuals he was approaching. Seated on the base of the fountain, engraved with a pattern of spiral vines, was a green haired boy, with yellow eyes and teeth of pearl shown through a large smile, who had two girls standing beside him. One girl, ponytailed and wearing a beige kimono, grinned at the boy; the other girl, with scarlet lips and coquettish posture, laughed with fluttering eyelashes. Takato's approach attracted the almond eye of the flirtatious girl, who stretched upwards and sauntered to him.

"Takato, finally loosening up?" The flirtatious girl winked. "What's happen'en, buddy?"

"I will never get used to your colloquialisms, Asami..." Takato pinched his forehead. "If you'd look behind me, you'd see 'what's happen'en'."

"I only tease the ones I like," the flirtatious girl crooned. When she looked behind Takato, her blue top hat jumped into the air, revealing a small white bunny nestled in straight pink hair. "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Who?!"

"You know what I didn't wake up this morning for?" The kimono girl grabbed the top hat drooping over her forehead. "Your fucking hat on my face! Watch where you're throwing your sh––" Her face was on the group. "––it."

The boy watched the scene unfold before him with an exuberant countenance. As soon as he could, he sprung to his feet and ran to the newcomers.

"Yo! Looks like today's going to be one to remember!" The energetic boy gave a thumbs up. "Tak, why've you been holding out on me, man? I was itching for some more company!"

"I apologize for the inconvenience," Takato replied. "I didn't find them, however: you can thank Ahodori for that."

"Badass! Ma, get over're and give me five!" The energetic boy raised his hand in the air. The figure, whose head tilt Makoto picked up on as he stood by her side, walked to the boy and gave a silent high-five.

"Hahaha! Always knew you could have some fun! Anyways," The energetic boy expanded his chest, perhaps to appear more larger than life than he already was, "it's great to meet you guys! How'd you end up in these boonies?"

"Hey there!" Aoi chirped. "I dig your attitude! But ah, we don't exactly know how we got here."

"Bummer," the boy sighed, "we're in the same boat. We've been in this creepy place for..."

"Around seven weeks, if my starting point is accurate," Takato remarked.

"Perhaps." The figure pointed to the still dot beyond the clouds. "That body of light might mean we can't rely on standard methods of measuring time, though: no sun I know remains in one place for so long."

"Maybe that ball is, like, a projection?" The flirtatious girl cuddled her rabbit. "A trick like that... yeah, that's radical!"

"Nah, don't start spouting junk like that!" Hiro raised a finger in the air. "The Illuminati's good, but not _that_ good. 'Sides, if the sun were fake, how'd Ra grant me his blessing?!"

"Illuminati?... Ugh, you looked like the type to believe that bogus." The flirtatious girl wagged a gloved finger at Hiro, with her rabbit eyeing Hiro with crimson irises. "You need to read your books, bro! The Illuminati is just a dumb fad! I can prove it!"

"A-ah! I-it's Usami! Why's Usami here?!"

"Usami?!" The rabbit's incisors were made bare. "I'll have you know my lil' bro is named Woundwort!"

"G-get that monster away from me, crazy chick! And update your lingo––it isn't the 80s anymore!"

The two digressed. The once calming ambiance of the fountain's flowing water was ravaged by their brutish dialog. Everyone else around the fountain gawked at it.

"... What are they even talking about?" Makoto asked.

"Oh, they're probably just having a competition to see who can kill the most of my brain cells..." Toko squinted. "Actually, though... something feels familiar about this..."

"Trust me," the kimono girl groaned out as she met Makoto with refined steps, "this isn't the dumbest crap Asami's pulled." She looked down on him. "You're kind of a shrimp, you know."

"Huh?! Well..." Makoto fiddled with his feet. "I m-mean, yeah. Is my height really the first thing you want to say about me?"

The girl smiled. "Nah, it's nothing against you: just checking to see if you had any sparring potential. Guess you could watch in the sidelines as I show off my skills, at least!"

"Skills..." Kyoko said. "Hm, I don't believe we can properly introduce ourselves if we don't know our skills––or our talents. What do you think?"

"Talents?" The girl grinned. "So... you guys finally showed up. Was wondering whether this was just some big initiation event from The Future Foundation."

"No way... Did... did you know about this, Takato?!" The energetic boy asked.

"It was as much of a surprise to me as I'm sure it is for you," Takato replied. He managed to suppress the heated discussion between Hiro and the flirtatious girl and got them to side with their friend groups. "Standing before you are the members of the 78th class of Hope's Peak Academy. Honor them as you would your parents." The three youths stood straight up and widened their eyes as Takato revealed the identity of the group.

"Byakuya Togami. Ultimate Affluent Progeny."

"Name's Aoi Asahina, The Ultimate Swimming Pro! Call me Hina, if you want!"

"...I'm T-toko Fukawa. I'm... The Ultimate Writing Prodigy."

"Yasuhiro Hagakure! But please, call me Hiro, The Ultimate Clairvoyant!"

"My name is Kyoko Kirigiri, and I'm The Ultimate Detective."

"And I'm Makoto Naegi. I got into Hope's Peak Academy because of a lottery, so I'm The Ultimate Lucky Student. It's nice to meet you!"

It looked as though the fountain had three statues at its base. For a long while, the three youths could only gawk at the 78th class.

Then, the energetic boy suddenly squatted down and raised his arms to the air at an angle. "And I'm... **DAISUKE OTA**! **THE ULTIMATE DAREDEVIL**!" Daisuke wore a red t-shirt that clung to his well-built chest. Below it was a shredded pair of blue shorts and sandals. His spiky hair ran down his head and to a black holed collar wrapped around his neck.

"To the audience: are you stoked for this?" The vibrant voice of the flirtatious girl resonated throughout the fountain area. Makoto looked around, but couldn't locate her.

Suddenly, a recognizable top hat glided on the air just above the fountainhead. It twirled in the weak breeze like a dandelion seed, and the many stones, each unique in their size, luster, and color, decorating the hat produced, in motion, a variegated river of transient twinkles. As the river reached the middle of the fountain, the hole of the top hat jerked to face the audience. And from within the darkness inside the hole, a gloved hand reached out; and, trailing the hand's shocking ejection, one lepus head and one humanoid head emerged from the top hat. In the shortest of seconds, the complete image of the flirtatious girl and her rabbit appeared before the group, as intoxicated by their phantasmal display as they were graceful in their fall to the tip of the fountain's base. The flirtatious girl, in a blue and pink bejeweled dress and white boots, struck a pose as her top hat landed right on her head.

"Welcome: **Asami Seishin**! If they're not Houdini or Robert-Houdin, then they can't compare to **The Ultimate Magician**!"

"Whoa..." Makoto gaped at the marvelous scene.

Kyoko narrowed her eyes and darted her sights across the fountain for a long while. "... Impressive. How did you accomplish it?"

"Ah-ah-ah~" Asami tipped her hat. "A professional never reveals her secrets. All I can say is that everything you've seen is 100% a trick." She stuck a tongue out at Hiro. " _NOT_ magic."

"Fair enough." Kyoko clapped politely, though Makoto knew where her priorities really were behind her closed eyes.

"Nice smoke and mirrors, Asami," the girl in the kimono strutted to the front of the fountain with a mocking shrug, "but allow me to show The Future Foundation _real_ talent. I've been called many things: slayer, conqueror... even a hero. But most people know me as... The Ultimate Ninja, **Murasaki Kaneko**!"

The area was quiet. Makoto rubbed the back of his head, flummoxed by the introduction. Daisuke stood up and coughed.

"Hey... uh, Saki..." Daisuke said. "It's cool that you like ninjas, but––"

"But _what_? I'm the ultimate fucking ninja!"

"Y-you're totally the coolest ninja I know! But... these guys probably want us to be... upfront, y'know?"

Murasaki's face, one stretched out into a smile, gradually lowered into a foul expression. "'Y'know', that collar of yours is looking loose. Want me to tighten it for you?"

"Haha! If you dare me, I'll do it myself!" Daisuke's smile appeared again.

"Murasaki, get serious and tell them your real title," the figure ordered. Their blue eye had a bird of prey's focus.

"..." Murasaki breathed out heavily. "Yes, sensei. I'll be the ultimate ninja... in the future. Right now, I guess you can call me **The Ultimate Janitor**." She retreated her hands behind her and looked down. She wasn't unattractive, with her sharp features and cool gray eyes. If fact, Makoto would have assumed she was the ultimate ninja before assuming she was in her element scrubbing a dirty floor. "N-not that you should use that title a lot, though."

"I suppose I've seen more inconsequential talents..." Byakuya did not even glance their way as he spoke. "Are you going to elaborate, or should we go now?"

"Whoa whoa, chill man," Daisuke protested. "Well, there's not much I gotta tell you: I do crazy shit 'cause it's fun and 'cause other people like seeing me do it. Ever climbed Mount Everest barefooted? Kinda gives you a new perspective on the clothing industry. My stunts haven't killed me yet, so I ain't quitting anytime soon. My motto is: It's only impossible if I can't do it!"

"Hehe, but I can totally make the impossible look possible," Asami added. "Not to brag, but I'm making big bucks with my performances throughout the globe. I started out small, needing to make some cash and too bombing to just set up a lemon stand, so I showed off some magic tricks I studied. People loved the retreads, but I think I really hit my stride when I started making up my own tricks when the old ones got super easy. Now, I'm making a profit and having fun! Can't beat a deal like that, right?!"

"... I clean shit, and people think I'm good at it." Saki shrugged. "It's just some random thing. Nothing major about it. Back home, we needed to separate all of our home duties to specific people. I, uh, tidied up the mess after a long day of work. I was also to be the best damn student in my elementary school, cause I'd actually eat my snacks and leave the cafeteria squeaky clean!"

"Ah, that reminds me: what did you mean when you called––Ahodori, I think?––sensei?" Makoto asked.

Murasaki held her head high and put her hands on her hips. "You noticed, eh? It's exactly what it sounds like: the ultimate ninja needs to hone their skills with strong opponents! Sensei's a beast, but Sensei is also kind enough to spar with me! Sensei wins... most of the time... b-but I learned a lot from it!"

The figured nodded as Murasaki spoke. "As have I. Enthusiasm for this old bird's teachings is much appreciated. Remember, though, no sharp objects or dangerous stunts in tomorrow's session."

"Yes, sensei!" Murasaki bowed.

"Hey... Ahodori." Makoto froze as their icy eye overlooked him. "Y-you don't mind if I use your name now?"

"... Not at all. Did I give that impression?"

"Honestly? Sort of. But anyways... what was with Daisuke calling you 'ma'?" He grabbed his chin. "Also, I don't think we've properly introduced ourselves, so––"

"Ahaha!" Daisuke's unexpected arm around the figure's shoulder shook their indistinct, bandaged face. "Man, Dori's everyone's ma! She's been caring for us like a hen watching her eggs since we arrived here! Actually––before that! Point is, she's awesome!"

"She...?" Makoto parsed the figure's body as subtly as he could.

"... Yes, I'm a woman," The figure said impassively. "My title's **The Ultimate Repentance Seeker**. My name's... **Ahodori Kuroashi**."

"Ultimate... repentance seeker?" Makoto mumbled.

"Yes."

"... Ok... It's, um, nice to meet you, Ahodori."

"... You too."

"Ahem," Takato asserted himself, "I believe we still have more of our friends to greet. Saki, Daisuke, Asami, thank you for cooperating."

"Hey hey, no problem Tak! Seeya guys around!" Daisuke waved the group a hearty farewell.

"Come by any time if you wanna see something excellent!" Asami did likewise.

"Hey, chumps! Remember the name Murasaki Kaneko! It will soon be the name of the howl of death!" Murasaki's voice followed the group even as her visage disappeared into the tenebrous fog.

* * *

The group traveled to the ominous bell tower, their footsteps echoing in the dull environment. Makoto, hopeful that his friends received the first batch of newcomers well, tapped on Kyoko's shoulder.

"Hey," Makoto said, "what'd you think of those kids?"

Kyoko crossed her arms. "Interesting word choice. Are you assuming I'm old?"

"... I don't remember you being this snarky..."

"And I don't remember you being this observant." A demure smile grew on Kyoko's face.

"I guess your reign as the ultimate detective is about to come to an end, then." Makoto smirked.

"You're welcome to try and take it. I've got other things on my mind." She averted her eyes from Makoto. "How'd she do it..."

"Hm?" Makoto stretched his head out in an attempt to see Kyoko's face.

"Makoto." A serene voice hummed in Makoto's right ear. In most situations, a sudden utterance of his name would have startled him, but the strange warmth of the voice neutralized his nerves. He shifted his head to the right with an owl's tranquility.

"Oh... Ahodori. What's up?"

"... Do you like the 79th class so far?"

"Ha, were you eavesdropping on me just now?"

"Sensitive hearing. I don't mean to intrude, but I was curious."

"I'd bet. You're like a guardian for the rest of the group, of course you'd be concerned about how others receive them."

"... Answer the question."

"Ah, well... so far, I like them!" Makoto put his hands behind his head. "They all seem to be taking this place pretty well. They're... different, but I've met odder people before. I'm just glad that every one of them seems to be friends with each other."

"Heh..." It was a surreal, the depiction of a completely bandaged 'woman', chuckling and holding a hand over her already covered mouth. Makoto wondered whether it was an intentional action.

"Makoto, we've stopped walking." Kyoko's voice tensed Makoto's body. He looked in front of himself: a brick wall was an inch away from scrapping his nose.

"What the––?!" Makoto jumped back.

Toko rolled her eyes. "Did you seriously almost walk into a wall?"

"What did you expect from him?" Byakuya grunted. "He's good at bumping into things that he shouldn't."

"That's... unfortunate." Takato sighed. "Oh, he'll be finding himself in good company now..."

"... Hm..." Ahodori turned her back from the group.

As Makoto stared up the wall, he recognized it as the bell tower. It domineered over him, radiating a baleful bubble of energy which Makoto struggled to free himself from. With deliberate steps, each foot weighed down by the fearsome burden, Makoto eluded the tower's presence and looked around. He saw that a garden encompassed the entrance of the bell tower. Two rows of untrimmed shrubbery marked the path to the unremarkable door to the bell tower. Some arrangements of rose beds added to the somewhat wanting color palette of the grassy garden, and a young tree seemed to be growing well at the right end of the garden.

Makoto saw a pale girl inspecting the blossoming roses on his side of the garden. To the other side of the garden, he saw a freckled boy sitting at the base of the tree, his eyes closed and a subtle smile on his face. He swore he caught sight of some movement to the far end of the garden, but whatever was making the blurry motions seemed to have made an effort to dissemble itself into the heart of the fog.

"What the––" Takato put his hand on his head. "Oh, grow up Lemeza! It's only six people!"

"S-s-six is too much!" The animated voice of the running thing darted towards the group as its speaker ran away from them.

"Oh my," the girl said, rose in hand as she watched on, "precious darling, to where will you flee to? Surely you must be aware that you are in my web, forever and ever..."

"E-Emily, please stoopppppppp...!" The voice faded away.

"... So, uh, what was that all about?" Aoi's eyebrows were stuck in a raise.

"He is... sensitive," Ahodori replied.

"A nervous wreck is probably what you're getting at." Kyoko frowned.

"Mmm... Nervous wrecks... Melville at his desk..." the boy under the tree mumbled dreamily.

"I see Hide is doing what he does best..." Takato sighed. "Why did I even bother trying to make him useful, the lazy––"

" _Hush_." Ahodori glared at Takato, and Makoto shivered just from her voice. Takato seemed to shrivel into himself in front of Makoto.

"Good. Everyone, give me a minute." Ahodori marched towards the sleeping boy, her path direct and coordinated by a most willing and flexible 78th class.

"Hide, it's time to wake up," Ahodori said with a hushed voice. She gave the sleepy boy's slim shoulder a nearly imperceptible touch. Nonetheless, he stirred awake in the fashion of a child's gentle descent into slumber.

"It appears my bed has transformed into a tree while I slept on it." The sleepy boy yawned as he got on his feet. "Quaint."

"You fell asleep on the tree after a hard day's work searching for supplies. Life is strange, but not quite that strange." Ahodori's voice perked.

"... Nice tree, then." The sleepy boy shrugged, opening his green eyes and looking around himself. "Hello, strangers. Were they found in our daily search, Takato?"

"Ahodori brought these people to us just now..." Takato said, his face tense. "You... did your part. Thank you."

"I should be the one thanking you. Brilliant idea to search for resources, and your leadership is formidable." The sleepy boy clapped his hands together. "Hm, where has your little fly gone to, Emilia?"

"Oh, here and there." The girl with roses played with her flowers. " The terror of the crowd compelled him to reckless abandon. I do hope that he keeps himself safe, in this misty town I recall from a night's bosom so very long ago..."

"Yes. Let's go get Lemeza now. When we get back, you can introduce yourself to the new faces, ok?" Ahodori looked at the sleepy boy.

"I certainly will, but only with Lemeza around. Now, onward to our quest." The sleepy boy and Ahodori left for the skittish boy.

Byakuya shook his head. "For future reference, is this Lemeza character always this much of a liability?"

"No... in fact, you'll find out he's quite a valuable asset, in a very specific environment." Takato straightened his tie up and approached the girl with roses. "Emilia, would you care to introduce yourself now?"

The girl with roses scanned the group, resting her eye on Makoto's. He, for his part, was sure that he'd seen that creepy red gaze somewhere before. "I will wait for our friends' return. Would it not be the greatest sign of pretense to give an immediate introduction, as though I deserved top-billing?"

"... Are you making fun of me?" Takato bit his lip.

"Now why would I? It was Ahodori who discovered our guests, no? Surely, I should be targeting my jests at her, if such was my intent." The girl with roses chuckled, though to Makoto the chuckle more resembled a controlled cackle.

"Emilia, a tip from a friend: don't write your own lines. You talk like a cartoon, and an obtuse one at that."

"And yet, I have single-handedly revived the gothic horror genre... Well, at least you can relish in the fact that Asami does not pen my scripts."

"... Point taken."

The group only had to wait for a minute before Ahodori, the sleepy boy, and the skittish boy surfaced from the fog. Ahodori walked ahead of the two boys, her hand clenched around the jittery hand of the skittish boy. The sleepy boy shifted his feet through the stone path while the skittish boy seemed to be mired in it. Once they came to a stop, Ahodori let go of the skittish boy's hand and stood next to the sleepy boy.

"..." The skittish boy squeezed his mouth shut, causing his mocha eyes to enlarge and appear mouselike. Makoto pitied the skittish boy, now that he could take a look at the still skittish boy. The skittish boy was the tallest of the three in the row, with spiky, dark purple hair and light skin. He wore a brown flight jacket over a tan button-up shirt, a pair of cargo pants, and a muddy pair of boots. Most curious of all were the assortment of accessories on his body: from a water canister looped around his belt to the binoculars around his neck to the purple leather whip hanging on his waist, he had the presentation of a rugged survivor. So why did it look like a single disagreeing eye would have been enough to send him into a crying fit?

"Oh! My precious darling... I have been waiting for your return––or, rather, hungering..." The girl with roses crept towards the skittish boy, and with each step, her red eyes widened to an impossible degree. Her high cheekbones contorted her facial muscles into a caricature of a grin: it was as if it were the design of a delirious doll-maker, ignorant of even the idea of how a normal human face ought to look, who was given only a nebulous description of what constituted a smile. Beyond the ghastly girl's pallid lips rested two rows of jagged fangs, more fitting in this monstrous visage than if bared by an emaciated and mad hound. Makoto stood on, his heart racing, pounding in his chest, unable to tear his vision away as the nightmarish girl reached a willowy limb out to the skittish boy's chest... and placed a beautiful rose in his breast pocket.

"Hm..." The sleepy boy waved a slow hand in front of the skittish boy's eyes, which did not blink or otherwise react to the action. "I see. The fright has swallowed him so greatly that he has simply fainted on the spot. That has yet to happen to me, and that is a shame. A truly chilling performance would be just what I need!"

The girl giggled. "The best horror can be found only in unwilling subjects. I will have to wait until you do not desire my abilities to be displayed."

Hiro leaned his head back and into his hands, a smug look on his face. "Women."

"Hm." Toko observed her fingernails. "Must be nice having your mom be the only women who can tolerate you, then."

"For future reference," Takato faced Byakuya, "is this Hiro fellow always so... affable?"

"You have no idea..." Byakuya pinched his forehead.

"Returning to less depressing matters," Takato gestured to the girl with roses to join the row, "shall we begin our introductions? Hide, Emilia... Lemeza, meet the 78th class of Hope's Peak Academy, now Future Foundation members."

The 78th class introduced themselves as before, with the three youths' reactions varying from polite bow to sluggish nod to blank gaze.

"How my heart aches in placid Lemeza's absence. To occupy our time until his awakening, I shall introduce myself." The girl with roses offered a tiny hand. "Makoto, was it not? Please, do give me the honor of shaking the hand of the ultimate lucky student."

"M-me? Oh, well..." Makoto analyzed the girl with roses. Her hand was still, as was her smile. "... It'd be my pleasure."

As Makoto walked towards the girl with roses, Kyoko brushed next to him. "I don't trust her." He could only gulp in response.

Standing a foot away from the girl with roses provided Makoto the opportunity of appreciating her appearance. She was a petite youth who stood at his own height, with raven hair in a French braid. She wore a simple white dress of middle length, black lace boots, and a silk black glove over her right arm. It was the hand she was offering him, and he, in spite of the discomfort welling in his stomach as he saw a hint of those fangs from before peaking through her smile, knew he couldn't back out now.

With a grumble, Makoto grabbed the hand. He shook it like any other. He pulled out of it. The entire arm came with him.

It took Makoto a moment to realize he had a dismembered arm in his hand and a stream of blood pouring right on his chest. The strange face of the girl with rose didn't register any particular emotion in his dead mind, as did her shrill utterances.

"Huh..." Makoto muttered.

"My––M-my––WHAT THE FUCK?!" The girl with roses threw the roses on the ground and dropped to her knees. Her wide eyes fell on her empty right socket.

Aoi rushed to her side, sweat already precipitating on her face. "Oh my g-god! Someone, call for help!" She hugged the limbless girl. "I-it's ok! Just stay calm!"

"I-I'm going... going to..." The limbless girl stammered, "die..."

"... HOLY SHIT!" Makoto fell on his back and watched the arm plop on his stained chest.

"... Are you done yet?" A powerful voice came from behind Makoto. Before he could attempt to turn around, Kyoko had already raised him back on his feet and taken the arm into her hands, frowning at it.

"Kyoko, just what are you doing?!" Byakuya ran to Kyoko's side.

"Getting this stupid prank over with." Kyoko glared at the limbless girl. "You can stop crying."

"How... the _FUCK ––_ do you... ugh..." The girl flopped on her side, causing Aoi to shriek.

"S-she's... s-she's..." Aoi stood up, her eyes dull.

"Dead? Hardly. She's perfectly healthy, if ethically bankrupt." Makoto only needed to hear the acid in Kyoko's voice to return to the moment.

"... Hehehe, I figured someone renowned as the ultimate detective would be one privy to my prank." The limbless girl stood up and bowed. Her right hand, gloved and all, had returned. "I will have to up the ante next time if I want to immerse even you in my web."

"An obvious limb switch? Fishing for the most trusting target? This wasn't some clever prank." Kyoko crossed her arms. "I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but clearly, that was my mistake."

"You... you're..." Aoi's fist grew redder and redder as she clenched it in front of her.

"Hm? Whatever is the matter?" The girl raised an eyebrow.

"Are you a complete idiot?!" Byakuya gnashed his teeth. "Or are you just a sociopath?!"

"B-but..." The girl retreated backward.

"You," Toko pointed at Takato, "did you know about this beforehand?"

"Of course I did. I've had to live with Emilia for a long while." Takato stood unflinching, returning the stares of the 78th class with his own. "What Emilia does is her own business: I can't disavow her as my classmate, but she reaps what she sows. I will not fall with her."

"..." Kyoko patted Makoto on the shoulder. "Are you alright? We'll need to do something about your clothes later."

"... Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit light-headed is all." Makoto sighed and looked at the girl. "That wasn't very funny."

"I, um... No, no it was not." The girl held her hands.

"Just... just tell me who you are, and we'll move on," Makoto declared.

"... M-my n-name is **Emilia Lugosi.** I am titled **The Ultimate Horror Movie Actress**. I've starred in m-many horror movies of multiple genres. I, um, am talented in playing as either the monster role or the 'final girl'. M-my most famous role is Aranelizu the spider in the _Terror of Coakley Avenue_ franchise." Emilia stood silent after that, her vision averted from everyone but the skittish boy.

"You're kidding, right?" Makoto frowned. "That's your real name?"

"Y-yes. I know it's... unorthodox. So," Emilia pulled an envelope from her dress pocket, which Kyoko scooped from her, "h-here. It confirms my name."

"..." Kyoko shook her head. "Looks like she's not a liar, at least."

"And who are you?" Makoto looked at the sleepy boy.

"Oh, yes, introductions." The sleepy boy had apparently slept on Ahodori's shoulder while the fiasco with Emilia had occurred. Ahodori seemed to be accepting of the sleepy boy's presence. "Greetings, 78th class. My name is **Hidetaka Eno**. Call me **The Ultimate Slacker**."

"... Ultimate Slacker?" Makoto's jaw drooped.

"Correct!" Hidetaka hummed.

Makoto rubbed his hair. "How is that even a talent...?"

"You know, I asked that very same question myself when my letter arrived." Hidetaka shrugged. "I never worked a day of my life, and my grades reflected it. To be frank, there were many other earnest students who surpassed me in the 'slacker' area––I just took the zeroes, but others went so far as to hack the system to change their grades. Odd then, how I was the one who received Hope's Peak Academy's invitation. But what do I know? Maybe my title is a satirical acknowledgment of how inconsequential talent is? Life is beautiful and worth validating with or without talent, could be what the administration is getting at with me. If I am right, then it was a wise move by that silly institution!" Hidetaka had shaggy, shoulder-length black hair which shot off in many different paths and white skin. He wore an unbuttoned gray raincoat over a white t-shirt, black pants, and gray sneakers. In spite of his bed-ridden physique and mild-mannered features, he had quite an uplifting smile.

"You know, I can't say I don't like that idea..." Makoto smiled back.

"Right? I wonder what Aho-aho has to say about it." Hidetaka plopped himself on the ground and looked up to Ahodori. "I must be getting somewhere by now, yes? Makoto here is my elder, and he agrees with me. Or am I still too young to speak such things?"

"Yes, you've still got a lot to learn about life." Ahodori crossed her arms and angled her head to face Makoto. "And you're the one with a syrup stained suit. I wouldn't trust you with a butter knife."

"... Thanks for the vote of confidence." Makoto scooped up some of the syrup on his suit and groaned. "... Least I don't have _that_ as a nickname."

"Aho-aho is a good nickname!" Ahodori yelled. She then promptly turned her back to the group, pockets in hand and reticent.

"Oh dear... well, at least I know she approves of it whole-heartedly! I will continue using it then, I say!" Hidetaka laughed.

"... W-what d-did you say, Hide?" The skittish boy asked suddenly. Emilia jumped as his high-pitched voice escaped his lips.

"Lemeza!" Emilia hugged the skittish boy. "You are safe and fine!"

"W-well, w-why wouldn't I be, Emil––" The skittish boy's sights fell on Kyoko. "O-o-oh. Um, h-hello..."

"... Hello." Kyoko's expression remained static. "Who are you, and what is your talent?"

"Ah... t-that's, t-that's easy enough." The skittish boy gulped. "You, uh... can call me **Lemeza Go**. I'm... I'm the, uh... **The Ultimate Explorer**. A-are you f-from the F-future F-foundation?"

"... Yes, I am. Kyoko Kirigiri, the ultimate detective."

"What?!" Lemeza's eyes widened for just a second. "I-I-I mean, cool. T-that's sweet. Yeah! Um... I e-explore caves. And mountains. And temples. T-there's a lot you can l-learn from s-searching old ruins. P-plus, there's... there's not a lot of p-people usually. I-if there's any big n-news about some h-huge historical revision, I p-probably caused it. L-like, my l-latest find was a-ancient pottery with C-Chinese characters inside the Sphinx. C-could mean there was some interaction between the two civilizations t-that we d-didn't know of. I-I guess you could call me the u-u-ultimate d-detective of ancient civilizations, hahaha!... R-right?"

"... I guess I could." Kyoko's eyes narrowed.

"Mghm! I-I'll, um... I-I'll come up with a b-better j-joke later––not that you have to hear it!––B-but I-I'm actually pretty f-funny, according to Hide and Emily..." Lemeza hid his face in his hands. "J-just don't g-glare at me like that... p-please..."

"I believe that's enough for now," Takato interrupted. "We still have two more people to introduce. Just to warn you: one of them is the nicest person I know; The other... isn't."

"Wonderful... But I guess anything's better than little miss psycho," Toko said.

"Now now, say goodbye to these three for now. This all will be water under the bridge soon." Takato beckoned the group to follow him.

"G-goodbye." Lemeza looked at the floor.

"So long, and may we meet again!" Hidetaka fell on his back and started sleeping.

"..." Emilia stood by Lemeza, her eyes glossy and watery.

* * *

As the group traveled closer and closer to the expansive stone building, a salty aroma redolent of the sea filled the air. Makoto believed he could hear the tides flowing in and out of some shore as an ambient drone, and he could not help but feel just a bit greater breathing in the scent and listening to the drone. He wondered for a moment whether the Neo World Program's simulation of a beach could truly replicate the reality, but such a question made his feet feel too light for his liking.

At the landing of the stone building, the group froze to behold the monument. Obsidian steps made up a long flight to a verdant door, with similar vine spirals to the ones etched on the fountain forming the outline of the door. The path was illuminated by pairs of flickering lanterns, antiquated and obscured by significant buildups of lamp oil. More traditional marble encased the areas adjacent to the obsidian steps, where rows of pillars towered overhead. Makoto was no consumer of high art, but the edifice overwhelmed him with an impression of power that transcended any he had seen before in a building.

"This is... Well, truthfully, I don't know _what_ this building is intended for." Takato hid his eyes behind the glare of his glasses. "Nonetheless, I'm certain this is where we can find him."

"H-him?" Toko bit the tip of her finger.

"Oh, there he is." Takato started ascending the black steps, stopping a meter away from one of the pillars. Makoto saw a dark figure leaning on the pillar Takato was facing. The dark figure did not seem to acknowledge Takato.

"... Yuta." Aoi flinched at Takato's stiff words.

"Abe." The dark figure's voice asserted itself above Takato's through its bitter character. Takato opened his mouth, but the dark figure continued. "Quiet. I'll get this over with."

The dark figure walked down the flight, their movement controlled and disinterested. The better lighting outdoors allowed Makoto to make out the figure. He was a tall, lean boy with tanned skin, long brown hair, and dry blue eyes. He wore a disheveled white dress shirt with two crimson gems fastening his cuffs, black trousers stained by chalky dust, and unremarkable black shoes. Wrinkles marked much of his already gaunt face, and his expression seemed to default into a callous scowl.

" **The Ultimate Architect**." The dark boy turned around and started walking back into the building.

"W-wait a minute!" Aoi ran up the steps, blocking his path. "You gotta tell us your name, at least!'

"You must be deaf." The dark boy did not stray from his path.

Aoi puffed her cheeks up, stomping her foot. "Ok, did your mom raise you to be a jerk?! Some of us can't just pinpoint a name to a title! Plus, I forget names easily... and stuff."

" **Yuta Oshiro**." Yuta was just an inch away from Aoi before she side-stepped out of his way.

Toko shook her head. "On second thought, I'll take little miss psycho over this."

"Yuta Oshiro..." Aoi jumped in the air. "Wow, I think I'll remember it, first go! That's gotta mean we can be friends!"

"It means you're retarded." Yuta leaned on his pillar, Takato gawking at him and the group giving him unimpressed stares. "Go annoy someone else."

"... Nevermind. I guess some people are awful." Aoi snorted, then descended the flight of stairs without giving Yuta another glance. "You give that name... an awful name, you know!"

Yuta sneered. "Language Arts. Learn it."

Makoto felt like he was inside a sauna standing near a fuming Aoi. "Well, um... Emilia didn't seem so bad, actually..."

"What a reprobate." Byakuya scoffed. "... And a familiar one, at that."

"Don't worry," Kyoko chimed in, "you were never quite this... abrasive."

" _Morally dubious? Yes... but at least he had some class about it,_ " Makoto mused.

"I doubt Yuta cares to hear who you are..." Takato, having also descended down the steps, looked stressed. "If you're wondering, no: he doesn't get better with age or familiarity."

"... Don't be so dismissive of him," Ahodori said suddenly. "He simply is... difficult to know."

"And do _you_ know him?" Takato crossed his arms.

"No." Ahodori looked away. "But I have been a pariah before... We share certain circumstances, I think."

Takato frowned. "Frankly, your counter-argument is superficial at best."

"I think Ahodori has a point, Takato," A voice from behind the group interjected. Sweet to the ears, the voice cleansed the sour taste left by Yuta. Makoto and the others turned around and saw an image of a statuesque girl, arms behind her back and long, dirty-blonde hair falling down her tilted head.

"Oh! Masumi, your timing is fortuitous!" Takato smiled. "Appropriately enough, we saved the best for last."

"Now, don't be so modest!" The beautiful girl chirped. "I hope to impress, though. I saw your meeting with Yuta. Don't mind the sourpuss: he'll warm up to you eventually."

"He better!" Aoi huffed. "I can't believe he'd expect us to just nod our heads when he flaunted his title."

"It might look like he's proud of it, but it's a bit deeper than that..." The beautiful girl sighed. "But that's beyond my boundaries. In any case, he truly deserves the title: he's built some of the most interesting and innovative buildings I've ever seen just by himself. Sometimes he constructs them because a client interested him enough, and sometimes he builds them simply because he can. He always leaves a part of himself in his works, and for that, I'd say he's the most diligent of our class." She smiled. "Not to discredit your tenacity, Takato."

"Ultimately, I'm simply a writer. Can't say I want to challenge him for that honor." Takato chuckled. "Would you be so kind as to introduce yourself? These are members of Future Foundation––the 78th class, to be precise." The 78th class introduced themselves.

The beautiful girl laughed. "Oh, Takato, you must be quite the happy editorialist to meet them in the flesh!"

"I, uh, no. Not particularly." Takato tried to look apathetic, but the growing blush on his face betrayed his true feelings.

"Heheh..." Toko chortled. "What a blatant fanboy... How sad."

"Oh, may I ask what happened your clothing, Makoto?" The beautiful girl went up to Makoto and scrutinized his clothing. "I can get Suki to help this mess, or, if need be, I can clean your clothing!"

"Ack! It's no big deal!" Makoto scratched the back of his neck. "Just had a run-in with your friend, Emilia. She... had fun at my expense. You d-don't need to worry about cleaning them!'

"That Emilia!" The beautiful girl put her hands on her hips. "She meant well, though. She breaks the ice with everyone that way. Some are charmed by it, but it doesn't always work... Anyways, I'll still look into cleaning your clothes! Now then," the beautiful girl bent her knees, lightly pulling her skirt up, and bowed her head, "it's a pleasure to meet you: I'm **The Ultimate Ballerina** , **Masumi Kojima**." Masumi certainly looked the part, with her tall body, fair features, and proper smile. She had light green eyes and wore a green blouse, a brown skirt that reached just below her knees, and white heels over black socks.

"Ballerina..." Byakuya stroked his chin. "Tell me, have you ever performed at the Sydney Opera House? Perhaps as the lead dancer of the Russian ballet, _Cinderella_?"

Masumi's eyes twinkled. "Why yes, I have performed at the Sydney Opera House! And I was the lead performer for a rendition of _Cinderella_... How did you know?"

"A man of my status can afford only the best entertainment to occupy his free time. I distinctly recall being impressed by the near perfect execution of the ballet, particularly as headed by one... Masumi Kojima." Byakuya smirked. "You have my respect. Pray you don't lose it."

"Oh, thank you. I simply perform to the best of my ability." Masumi nodded her head, oblivious to the livid glare sent her way by Toko. "I attempt to incorporate my passion for dance in all other areas of my life. I'm a tool for greater art and a person who loves art, and it's sometimes difficult reconciling these two aspects of me. I have hope that, as I grow, I also perfect my path."

"Thank you, Masumi," Takato said. "Your introduction was a nice refreshment after Yuta's... So then, is there anything else you wish to know about, 78th class?"

"I have some questions." Kyoko pulled a notepad and pen from the pouch on her leg. "You said you arrived here seven weeks ago, right? Do recall the circumstances surrounding your arrival here?"

"Down to business... very good." Takato grinned. "Around eight weeks ago, we received our letters of entry into Hope's Peak Academy. To celebrate all of us getting in, Ahodori gathered us together and asked if we wanted to enjoy ourselves the following week."

Kyoko's pen glided on the small paper sheets. "I see. Ahodori, why did you gather everyone and suggest a group day?"

Ahodori crossed her arms. "... It was because I was proud of the young ones. They would live a life I almost lived..."

"... You're not part of the 79th class, then?"

"... No, I am not. I graduated from Hope's Peak Academy long ago... But, I did receive a letter, and I now bear my title in remembrance of lost time."

"... We should follow up on that later." Kyoko turned to Takato again. "Continue."

"We did this and that––even Yuta seemed to be enjoying the festivities, and he's not usually one to enjoy group outings––and then, during the waning hours of that day, Asami proposed a 'stellar magic trick'."

"Can you confirm this account, Masumi?" Kyoko clicked her pen on the pad.

"Yes, I can. Our day was one of merriment. A movie in the afternoon and a circus trip for the evening. Asami had so much fun, she had to release some of her pent-up energy through the most impressive magic trick she could conjure," Masumi replied.

"And what was this magic trick?" Kyoko asked.

"Well... it was quite a strange set-up: she asked us all to sit in seats arranged in a circle. Once we were all seated, she asked us to cover our eyes. The trick, she said, was inspired by a suggestion made by an anonymous fan of hers: 'what if,' she said, 'you could move ten people, including yourself, from one room to another in the time it took to recite a two-minute chant?' So, we all volunteered to blindfold ourselves, and once that was done, Asami started speaking in some nonsensical, possibly made up language. The last thing I recall then was Asami's chanting getting more and more... muffled, like she was talking underwater. I was feeling drowsy during the whole trick, but sometime during her chant, I definitely fell asleep." Masumi turned her gaze downwards. "When I woke up, none of us had blindfolds on, and we were all in our seats, but we were now in a very dark room."

"... Interesting." Kyoko's frowned, and her pen moved in a circular pattern multiple times.

"We were obviously disturbed by this turn of events, so we exited the room and found this town. There were many unoccupied houses down the right road of this center, so we decided to live here when it dawned on us that escape would not be happening very soon." Takato glanced around himself. "We've been searching for supplies and resources to aid in our future plans. So far, your class has been the most promising discovery."

"Why is escape not an option right now?" Makoto asked.

"We're surrounded by thick wilderness, and a large sea borders the remaining perimeter," Takato replied. "Lemeza trekked through the woods to see what was in there: he came back blood-stained and spouting gibberish about 'awful predators' and 'bad feelings'. He was uninjured, but the panicked look in his eye told us all we needed to know about most of our individual chances of survival if we journeyed through the woods." He shuddered. "Likewise, you don't expect us to just swim our way to freedom, right? Not that I would want to... The sea is... foreboding."

"Y'know," Hiro scratched his head, "m-maybe this is just one big initiation program from Hope's Peak Academy. You've got housing, and I'm guessing there's gotta be some food and drinks somewhere here, since you haven't starved. Who'd bother to kidnap you and treat you so kindly if they didn't want to help you?"

"Yes, because Junko cared for our necessities as an act of good will." Byakuya waved his hand. "Stop being an idiot."

"Junko... do you mean... Junko Enoshima?" Masumi frowned. "That awful name rings in my mind. Yet... I can't pinpoint why."

"You... can't?" Byakuya raised an eyebrow. "How are you this ignorant? She masterminded the killing game we ended and would have destroyed the world if we had not stepped in." He turned to Takato. "And that reminds me: how did you not recognize any of us besides Toko? That 'game' was televised for all the world to see. These introductions are pointless: you should already know who we are."

"... T-the killing game?" A droplet of sweat rolled down Takato's face. "What... what is that? And... who is this Junko Enoshima? I... my articles were all about expressing the great exhibition of talents in the 78th class. I didn't get names... didn't get physical features... I just wrote about the talents. This was on TV? I don't watch TV... But how would I not know...? The world was... almost destroyed? How?"

"What?" Shock stained Kyoko's stoic countenance. "Do you... really not know anything?"

"... Destroyed the world." Ahodori muttered, her fist clenched and the atmosphere around her darkening under the influence of an otherworldly power emanating from her. "The world was destroyed... again? Impossible. I won't accept this––my sins could not destroy it then, and my resolve now will protect it from anything...!"

Makoto yearned to flee; unfortunately, his frozen body doomed him in place. Stunned faces surrounded him. Ahodori's hymn of world's end wracked him with confusion and trepidation. Just what in lord's name _was going on_?

A sudden tolling sound roared throughout the maddening scene. Like actors breaking character during an earthquake, the participants of this scene reverted to a primal alertness. Wary eyes peered at the origin of the toll. The tired bell hanging so high above the town in its towering home swung back and forth, and its toll reached the ears of the group in hollow waves. The bell seemed to undulate until Makoto himself dared to look upon it. Then, it fell silent.

That silence would be broken by another sound––a voice, shrill and utterly frivolous. It boomed throughout the town, its source unknown any yet too known by the darkest of Makoto's memories.

"Hear ye, hear ye! Mine voice doth bless your ears, yes? Capital! With that business sorted with, let us eschew formalities and _get things rolling_! To the wonderful alumni and bear-y lucky incoming students, your special generations ceremony is about to begin! Please make your way to the town hall with haste––lest ye be hang in the gallows like the craven knave you are!"


	4. Chapter 1: Part III

**Notes:** Hello, my darling readers! Remember when I said I'd be distracted by the release of Danganronpa 3? Well, I may have underestimated how engaged I am with the end of the trilogy! So far, it's been pretty terrible to my heart, though-it's so hopeful with the cute parts (especially episode 2 of Side: Despair!) and so despairing in the worst parts (Especially... episode 2 of Side: Future...). If you're wondering if a particular character's fate in my story will correlate to their fate in Danganronpa 3, let me tell you something...

No, 'they' aren't safe here, either. You know who I'm talking about.

But don't fall into despair yet! Hope is risky, but it is worth having, all the same. Anyways, this chapter introduces another one of my own 'divergence points' from the DR universe. You'll know when you see it. As always, tell me what you think of this chapter, warts and all, and may you enjoy it! Please note that I have an important announcement to make at the bottom of this chapter, so please read the additional chapter notes once you finish with this chapter.

* * *

Makoto cursed himself, unconcerned that his fingers threatened to pierce skin as he clenched them. A fire raged in his heart, fueled by one-part fury, one-part fear, and two-parts confusion. At its peak, the fire coursed through his veins, and he and the fire became synonymous. When he felt a hand on his shoulder, though, the fire went through a transformation he could only perceive the aftermath of. A chill stillness burdened his legs, chest, neck, and head. He knew this feeling well, and in his mind its name festered: despair.

Makoto's pale hand touched the hand on his shoulder. A coarse, leathery, and pacifying sensation rested on his fingertips. "Makoto... we have to collect ourselves."

"Why...? Why again? Why can't it just end?" Makoto asked.

"How can it end? We don't even know if it's begun, or if that voice really is..." Kyoko passed from Makoto's back and lifted his chin up. "In any case, don't slouch over so much. It doesn't suit you."

"Right." Makoto forced a smile. "Right."

Makoto looked around himself: Takato, Masumi, and Ahodori seemed to have been stunned. Behind him, Aoi, Toko, Hiro, and Byakuya were anxious but appeared lucid enough. He turned to face his classmates. " I think we should tell these guys... what's probably going to happen."

"I have to agree," Byakuya said. "What we need least is paranoia forming from their ignorance. If that was really him, better to prepare them for his little game."

"I'm too old for this..." Toko bit her fingers. "Can I have just some peace without that stupid bear and his despair fetish?"

Aoi sighed. "You and me both. Once we beat him again, let's make sure he's decommissioned for good."

"Tell me what'll happen and how you know."

The demand came with an austere authority, and Makoto nearly jumped from it. The 78th class turned to meet the speaker, Yuta Oshiro, seated on the building's beginning step with veiny hands steepled.

"Oh..." Aoi furrowed her face, "you."

Yuta's frown did not waver. "Asahina. You and your class have something I want. Let's talk."

Aoi took a slight step back. "Y-you know my name?"

"I have ears: you introducing yourself to Kojima was enough."

Kyoko brushed her hair aside. "You talk like this is a business proposal. It's anything but."

"I don't play business. Will you tell me now, or will I have to wait until the rest of my class gather here?"

Byakuya scoffed. "And why, pray tell, should we privilege you over the others?"

"Unlike the others, 'Junko Enoshima', 'the killing game', and 'the world's destruction' intrigue me." Yuta looked to the sky. "Additionally, we both want that grating voice gone."

"W-whatever." Toko frowned. "Y-you're probably just putting up a brave face. You aren't above your––friends?––so just sit there and be quiet until they show up. This'll go better if everyone's working as a team."

"... You've told me what I needed to know," Yuta said. "What will happen will involve me in relation to a group. Therefore, group unity is paramount. I'll sit here and listen to what you have to say to everyone, then."

Yuta stayed silent afterwards, his gaze now on the group behind the 78th class. They turned around to survey the group: Takato seemed to have gotten his bearings back in order, as had Masumi.

Ahodori held her head low. "Whatever spoke, and its tone of voice... It is familiar." She searched inside her longcoat and rested her eye on what was within it. "Evil like that will die... I'll make sure of it."

"Ahodori..." Makoto almost reached a hand out to her but stopped himself. "What we're probably going to meet is not something we can easily deal with."

For a moment, her blue eye flickered to meet Makoto's. "... I have to try."

Irregular footsteps occupied the vacuum left by Ahodori. Soon afterwards, Hidetaka, Emilia, and Lemeza arrived at the building.

"G-ghost! I-I'm telling you, E-Emily, t-t-that was a ghost!" Lemeza seemed more diminutive than usual. Emilia was by his side at first, but once she caught sight of the 78th class, she skipped towards them. "E-Emily! C-come ba––" He stopped in place a few meters from Kyoko, retreating his hands into his pocket and increasing his hunch.

"... Hello again, Lemeza." Kyoko's countenance and tone betrayed nothing. "Your presence was needed. Good you came."

"... O-oh." Lemeza, in an act that made Makoto squint a bit, straightened himself up and stood like a cadet to their commanding officer. "I-if you need anything from me, just say the w-word."

"..." The raising of an eyebrow betrayed something now. "At ease. We just wanted to get everyone together."

"A-ah!" Lemeza rested his face in his hands. "I-I'm so s-s-sorry! I didn't... I didn't know your e-expectations f-for me! Damn it, I'm too arrogant! It'll get me killed, that's what my training told me! How could I have been so stupid?!" It took a near instantaneous pat on the back from Ahodori to end Lemeza's self-deprecating harangue.

"My darlings, I have found you!" Emilia's heels flew up in the air once she stopped in front of the 78th class. "Please, hesitate before making your company evanescent." She drifted her way to Makoto. "And Makoto... may I apologize to you? You may reject me, of course, and that would be... understandable."

"Oh, Emilia." Makoto scratched his neck. "I mean, if you don't plan on pranking me right now, I don't see why I won't forgive you. Just warn me in advance, you know?"

"Ah!" Emilia webbed her hands together. "What great news! I do regret my ignorance––now, in this place, is not the time for... puerile humor. Especially with this troubling development..." She put a finger on her lips. "For the remainder of our acquaintance, I will do everything in my power to serve you. Would you like to scare me, or shall I give you an explicit warning if I wish to frighten you? Oh! How about––"

"It's fine." Makoto smiled. "Don't get so worked up about it. We have some important stuff ahead of us, and I'd rather you not get too stressed out. Just talk to me like you would any other friend."

"Other friend... Answers that blend..." Hidetaka mumbled.

Hiro stared at Hidetaka for a long while. "Damn, _really_ wish I could take this that easily."

"... Hidetaka," Makoto said, "it'd be better for everyone if you'd wake up."

Hidetaka shook his head lightly. "Oh, Makoto, just the person I wanted to see. I had the oddest dream just now..."

"You can... tell me about it later." Makoto put a light hand on Hidetaka's slender shoulder.

Hidetaka played with an errant strand of hair. "Of course, we ought to meet up in the town hall and figure out why that voice summoned us first. Frankly, I went this way not because I thought this was the town hall but because I thought you would have a good handle on this situation." He gave a vigorous nod. "Do you think I was right in that assumption, Aho-aho?"

"... Well," Ahodori walked to Hidetaka's side, relaxing her eye, "you're not wrong."

"Nah, Dori, that's way off!"

Makoto pivoted to the source of the declaration, but, before he could finish, a burly arm tightened on Makoto's shoulder and pulled him closer. Makoto's blurred vision was unnecessary to explain what happened; he only needed to hear the guffaw booming in his left ear to know that Daisuke Ota had arrived.

"... Taka's underestimating how awesome Maky here is!"

"H-hello to you too, Daisuke!..." Makoto gasped for air he was released by Daisuke and felt his lungs reinflate.

"... Maky?" Aoi stared at Kyoko expectantly.

Kyoko shrugged. "First time I've ever heard of it––I can't have all the answers."

Byakuya frowned. "Lovely, the indefatigable air horn is here. I can only hope he brought the other two here so we can proceed."

"Brrr, chilly reception I'm getting from Byagami! But," Daisuke gave a thumbs up, "not to worry there, buddy! I brought Saki and Sami with me!"

"Heh, more like I dragged your crazy ass along." Murasaki revealed herself from behind Daisuke's frame, surprising Makoto.

"Whoa! Were you always there, Murasaki?" Makoto asked.

"Yeah, I nearly got my eye poked out by that spike on your head you call hair." Murasaki rubbed her temples. "Really need to work up a sweat––headache's going to kill me."

"Oh!" Aoi pumped her fists. "We should work out together sometime! Been feeling the urge to go for a swim, and I hear there's water nearby!"

Murasaki grinned. "Hey hey, I knew I'd like you from the moment I saw you! That sea's going to face the wrath of the ultimate swimming pro and the ultimate ninja!"

"Yeah!" Aoi jumped in the air. "Double yeah!"

"Hm..." Hiro glanced around the area. "Where's that crazy chick and her monster? Maybe Shiva did actually strike her down... neat!"

"Neat," Asami said, appearing behind one of the central building's pillars and strutting down the steps, "is Woundwort having a nibble at your corn hair, dweeb."

" _What_?!" Hiro waved his hands around his hair pathetically. The only things he hit besides gnawed pieces of hair and air were follicles of white fur drifting in the air.

Asami winked as she passed Hiro, the rabbit Woundwort presenting itself on her right shoulder. "Fabulous performance on my part, as usual."

"Weeks of hard work and dedicated prayer for this hair... ruined by one rabbit." Hiro sighed. "Fair warning––I'm gonna get you back for this. No one can out-trick me!"

"Trick?" Asami couldn't hold back a smile. "If you can fool me, that'd be righteous! I love a good trick, so don't hold back!"

Hiro pulled out a translucent crystal ball from his coat and stared into it, grinning. "You asked for it..."

A deafening slam roared throughout the area, followed by a quick yelp from Makoto. Trying to avert everyone's attention and forcing a smile, Makoto turned his head with the rest of the group to the direction of the slam. Yuta's hand rested on the lustrous obsidian step, shaking in contrast to his still body and face.

"Abe, Kojima, lead our group," Yuta ordered.

"Y-yes," Takato blurted out, "we better organize."

"'Kojima'..." Masumi raised the corners of her lips up, though her eyebrows sunk down. "But it looks like our friends from the Future Foundation have something to say. I'll get them to listen."

Both Takato and Masumi walked to the building. Once they reached its base, Yuta stood up, passed by them, and joined his peers a few meters from the building. Takato coughed, getting the attention of the group. The 78th class glanced at each other throughout, nodding as they made eye-contact.

"Everyone," Masumi said as her collected voice traveled to Makoto's ears, "the Future Foundation has something important they need to reveal to us. That voice we all heard is strange and its words concerning, but that's exactly why we should learn more about our situation. Please remain calm as they speak––and no matter what, have hope."

Masumi beckoned the Future Foundation members to assemble in front of her. Slow steps accompanied solemn expressions as the 78th class lined up in front of the 79th class. All was quiet at the base of the large triangular building until Byakuya stepped to the forefront.

"We believe you and our class are here to participate in a game where the objective is murder."

Like a virus, confusion spread from face to face, marking its contamination with loose jaws, shrinking pupils, and twitchy bodies.

"The voice that announced the beginning of this 'ceremony' brought you here for one purpose: to get you to kill each other for the possibility of escape... or for the retrieval of your memories."

Ahodori stood, a glint burning over her eye of ice. "... What cowardly schemes. They seek to tempt us to our own ruin with false freedom? False hope?"

Kyoko moved forward, joining Byakuya. "That's right. Whoever has masterminded your arrival here will force you to realize that you will never escape unless you play by their own rules, instill in you a strong desire to leave, encourage you to distrust and hate one another, and add more and more motivations and conditions until it all results in someone murdering someone else."

"Murder..." Emilia's dull voice escaped her crestfallen lips. "... each other? They wish to make a spectacle of this?..."

"Yes." Kyoko crossed her arms. "In all likelihood, they literally want to make a spectacle of it. The reason we think this? It's because we're survivors of a killing game organized by that thing you just heard, and we had to sit and watch another game not too long ago. Your situation resembled the pattern too much to not be suspicious––and that voice more or less confirms our worst fears."

"No way," Murasaki growled, shaking her head with only a minimal amount of control. "No way. In fact, it's not just impossible, it's... it's fucking ridiculous! I've been through this entire damn town!" She waved her hand around, pointing it in the vague direction of the buildings around her. "How can they be recording us when there _aren't any fucking electronics?!_ Hey, hot shit, think you can explain how some sick fuck could steal the future students of Hope's Peak Academy and make it impossible for them to leave or be rescued?! How could anyone convince me to even think about killing my best friends?! You think you can just bullshit me about some insane, disgusting, and evil ga––!"

"I know." Makoto didn't break eye contact with Murasaki as he moved to Kyoko and Byakuya's row. "I know it's crazy. Trust me, I've been so mad, so frightened, so held by despair before that I had also refused to even think about the possibility. But what you're about to face thrives on making you think it's impossible: It wants you to think there's no way you could be pawns in its show; it wants you to think there's no way it could kidnap you like this; it wants you to think there's no way despair can tempt you into doing the most horrible of things. A lot of the time, it really is impossible––and that's what makes it dangerous. Once you accept that what it is and wants are impossible... you make it inevitable. I know it's crazy. Trust me, though, when I say it hides its greatest weakness as its greatest strength. Once you accept that it's impossible, you can realize that anything is possible: you can realize you can beat it at its own game; you can realize that you can escape it if you just try hard enough and get a bit lucky; you can realize that, even if you can be tempted, you'll never fall into despair. It's dangerous because it's impossible, but that also means it's so easy to move on from it. Once you accept that anything is possible... you can stop it right there. I know it's crazy. I know. But..." he smiled a luminous smile, which sliced through the fog like the indomitable rays of the eternal sun, "... that's hope."

Murasaki stilled. Everyone in front of Makoto seemed inert, in fact, due to an odd energy blossoming within them. Enthusiasm, perhaps, showed itself through the glittery eyes and small smiles present on the faces of nearly all of the group––save for Hidetaka, who had mumbled nonsense and rested his head on his shoulder sometime before Makoto's speech.

"Are you done?" Makoto didn't need to look at Yuta to see his dour face. "Tell us something besides platitudes: what does this mastermind want?"

Makoto sighed, turning to face Yuta and the imposing building's far-off door, caked in shadows. "The mastermind... wants despair."

"Despair." Yuta stood up, his frown twisting into a smirk. "An ideologue. Disposable and empty then."

"..." Makoto hunched over, looking at Yuta's general direction. "Does anything actually affect you? Look, just follow my lead, I guess. I have more experience."

"Shut up and lead, then." Yuta ascended the flight, and once he reached the door, he stood, the entire impressive building like a frame around his portrait. "This building is the town hall––it's too distinguished and centralized not to be. If this mastermind wants to break the group, we shouldn't help them by separating."

The group trotted up the steps, joining Yuta at the top. He drifted to the back of the group once they arrived at the top. With a wary mind, Makoto approached the door's green handle and grabbed it. With a soundless twisting of the handle, Makoto opened the door.

* * *

"Dudes, who knew Maky was a verbal hurricane?"

"That was a pretty sweet speech, but is 'verbal hurricane' even a thing?"

"Odd how you're asking that, Asami."

"You know you love it, Takato!"

"W-w-we s-should be f-focusing on more i-i-important t-t-things, Asami..."

The chatter from behind Makoto elicited a small smile from him. It seemed as though his extemporaneous response had at least lifted the spirits of some of the youths. He enjoyed it so much, he would have stopped on the spot and listened further, if the long arched hallway was not stretched out before him. It was dim, with more lanterns hovering high over the polished marble floor. At the end of the hallway was a red door not unlike the one in the strange building Makoto awoke in. He marched to it like a stalwart soldier to the battlefield.

"Hey, Makoto!" Aoi ran up to his side. "When did you get so great at speaking? Must be a benefit of being the ultimate hope!"

"Oh, Aoi!" Makoto rubbed the back of his head and chuckled. "It kind of just came to me. Really, though, it was just to prep the others up. I'm no orator yet!"

Aoi shrugged. "You're way easier to get than most other talkers I know. They're always trying to make themselves sound smart and stuff, but you're interested in your listeners. You did good!"

"I could have done a bit better..." Makoto looked back, ever so slightly so as to avoid notice. "I mean, Hidetaka fell asleep."

"This isn't about Hidetaka, is it? He seems like a guy who's never bothered by anything." Aoi pouted, her cheeks getting redder as she continued on. "Yuta's just a jerk. We'll show him we can be counted on when things get serious."

Makoto grinned. "You could always slap him. Worked with Byakuya."

"What was that?" Byakuya's voice snapped through the air.

"Nothing!" Aoi leaned in closer to Makoto, a sly look on her face. "Nah, I save the slaps for someone like 'Mr.' Sakakura."

"That's one person I don't want to be reminded of..." Makoto breathed, relieved he couldn't feel any strain on his lungs.

"... We're here," Ahodori suddenly declared. Makoto and Aoi looked up to see the door a meter or two away. Ahodori, who had taken to the head of the group next to Makoto, stood her ground with her arm spread out on Makoto's chest.

"We could be..." Makoto looked up to Ahodori. "Don't worry. I'll handle th––"

"No." Ahodori's coat trailed on the pristine marble below it, and her footsteps quieted the conversations behind her. She turned her head slightly. "... I know how to check doors."

Once Ahodori reached the door, she drew a curved, serrated knife out of her coat. Makoto could see his own shocked face reflected from the knife's black blade. He watched as she rubbed down and patted the entire door. She leaned what was probably her right ear into the door, then squeezed herself to the wall opposite the door's handle. She grabbed the handle, giving it the most minuscule of twists. In what Makoto could understand only as a fluid dance, she pushed the door open, gripping her knife in her right hand as she slid from without to within, always in step with the motion of the door. She disappeared around the corner of the other side only to move across it and, after a pause, walk back through the door, her eye closed and her knife quickly sheathed into her coat.

"It looks safe. Keep close to me, though," Ahodori said. Hidetaka drifted to the entrance of the room, Yuta following close behind him with more deliberate steps. Soon, everyone gathered around the door and proceeded through it except Byakuya, Kyoko, and Makoto.

Byakuya tapped his elbow as he crossed his arms. "What exactly are you two waiting behind for?"

Makoto turned his head from Kyoko to Byakuya. "I'm wondering the same about you."

"I decided to stay in the back––both sides need to be guarded, after all."

"... Sorry." Kyoko shook her head slowly. "I was focusing on something."

"Kyoko," Makoto returned his sights to her, "what'd you figure out?"

"Nothing yet, but I can work out a thing or two, if you can help me." Kyoko motioned to the door. "Can both of you keep an eye on Lemeza and Yuta for me?"

"Huh? Why them?" Makoto looked to Byakuya, who looked a bit confused by the request.

"Just look at how they walk. Tell me if you notice anything off about them or if they seem normal to you." Kyoko moved to the doorway, passing through both Makoto and Byakuya. "I'll tell more later."

Byakuya frowned at her direction. "Vague as always, isn't she, Makoto?"

"Yeah..." Makoto shrugged. "I'll try and see what the deal is with those two. What's so interesting about how they walk?"

"We'll find out if both of you do your job properly." Byakuya waved a hand. "Get going. Stragglers make _my_ job harder."

* * *

Makoto stared at his reflection on the marble floor. Looking up, he saw the room expand a number of meters from his front and sides. The capacious room was barren, with the only furniture before him being two long wood booths, made sinister by the curvatures and spirals marked into the walnut colored wood. The only source of lighting coming from two candle stands at each end of each booth. Ahead of the booths was an elevated, elliptical bench. It didn't appear to be occupied, but Makoto clenched his hands nonetheless.

Makoto shook his head and walked to the bench. Every one of the 79th class was seated in the first booth. As Makoto moved closer, he saw some words engraved on the back of the booth:

79TH CLASS––MRS. KUROASHI NOT INCLUDED!

Ahodori stood behind the booth. To her left, from the end of the booth to her left hand, sat Takato, Asami, Lemeza, Emilia, and Masumi; Hidetaka, Daisuke, Murasaki, and Yuta sat from the right end of the booth to Ahodori's right hand.

Makoto saw his classmates seated in the booth ahead. Another engraved message greeted him:

WELCOME BACK, DESPAIR HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATES!

Makoto cringed at the words. Nonetheless, he moved to the rightmost portion of the booth and sat next to Kyoko. He stared up at the bench, expecting at any moment to hear that spritely, mechanical voice he loathed.

"... Zzz... zzz..."

Makoto sighed. Hidetaka was incorrigible.

"... Zzz... zzz..."

" _Does he have narcolepsy?_ " Makoto wondered.

"... Zzz... zzz..."

It dawned on Makoto that he should have seated himself somewhere not in front of Hidetaka.

"Makoto, you seem a bit irritated. Perhaps you should sleep it off?" Hidetaka's voice was boyish and marked with some spots of lucidity.

"What?" Makoto turned to face Hidetaka. "Ah, it's nothing. Just happy you're awake."

"... Zzz... zzz..."

Makoto's eyes widened, and he nearly bolted from his seat. His feet fell on the marble with a bang.

"Wha-wha?! Hey, don't disturb my beauty sleep, whippersnappers!"

Makoto turned around just fast enough to see a monochrome blur rocket through the air in an almost comical fashion. He felt his skin crawl and his hands lose control of themselves as he gazed at the blur landing on the bench with a cartoonish plop. His vision captured the image of a bear caricature, half white and half black, sitting down complacently with a wide grin in full display and its rotund belly falling out from its child-sized body. The bear image had nonsensical eyes––a dot on its white side and a jagged slash of dull red on its black side––and, of all things, a pilgrim's hat on its head. His instincts implored him to reject the nightmarish image, but the indelible truth stood in front of him. He resolved to settle things: Monokuma was back, and, he hoped, for the last time.

"Seriously, is this how you repay your hopelessly nice town mayor? Who do you think got all that venison for you, huh?! When have housing, clothing, and a beautiful view of the sea ever come for free?! Why I oughta––"

Makoto froze as Monokuma's sights fell on him, revealing, beneath the red glow coming from the center of the now translucent glass eye, cold machinery.

"––Ohhh... Well, if it isn't my _favorite_ student of all time, Makoto Naegi! Aw, you must have been missing me so much, you woke me up with a bang. You're too kind to this bear! Puhu... Puhuhuhu!"

Makoto felt a fire bubble up inside of him, and all throughout his body, weights that he didn't even know he had dissolved away. He flew up from his seat, scanning the faces of his classmates for a second before he glared at Monokuma.

"Do you really think you can still scare me, 'Monokuma'? Why don't you cut the crap and show us who you really are!" Makoto's finger shot upward to Monokuma as the fire inside intensified.

Monokuma put his simplistic paws over his face, putting a perfunctory effort to hide his smile. "Man, I really am the best headmaster you could ask for! I took a little walnut like you and, in only a few weeks, turned you into a huge, singing tree! At least, I call it singing." One of his paws was now raised and angled at Makoto. "Tell me, what would you call that obnoxious monologue you had, what, two hours ago? It was so un- _bear_ -ably hopeful, it made me weep! But I guess that's a fair trade, considering I axed most of your friends."

Makoto felt a strong tug on his left arm that prevented him from charging at Monokuma. He broke his stare with Monokuma and turned to see Kyoko standing up with him, her grip on his arm.

"So, you heard us talking outside this building. You know about us explaining your 'game' to the 79th class, then?" Kyoko smirked. "We're ever so sorry we did your job for you."

"That's right!" Monokuma cheered. "Your mayor wants to protect you!... Soooo I did away with that pesky 'privacy' thing." Suddenly, he jumped up, a strange and artificial blush on his cheeks. "Oh no, that's right! You graduates _did_ take away my opportunity to throw these newbies into despair! Darn it darn it darn it!"

"W-wait!" Daisuke yelled. "So you seriously want us to kill each other?! Why, Doraemon, why?!"

"... Excuse me?" Metal claws popped out of Monokuma's paws. "My name is Monokuma. _Mono_. _Kuma_. Should I call you Kenny Rogers for being a donkey's behind with a death wish?"

"What was that, motherfucker?' Murasaki's cool voice made Makoto twitch. "Threaten Daisuke again. See what happens."

"Saki, cool out! I'm fine––"

"Both of you sit down and shut up before you get yourselves killed." Makoto turned to the left and saw Byakuya stare at the two. A second later, they looked at each other, nodded, and sat back down. "Good. Monokuma isn't above murdering people on a whim. He's childish to the core."

"You read me like a book, Byakuya!" Monokuma clapped his paws together. "How's that dynasty going? You're going to need to get busy and make like my little sister if you wanna have enough kids to fight for the right to succeed you! Toko should help you––"

"Shut up." Toko scowled at Monokuma. "I've seen enough of your face, and heard enough of your stupid voice."

"... Nevermind, then." Monokuma sighed. "So yeah, these oldies already told you the gist of things: you're stuck here in this town unless you murder someone. I have no idea what they're talking about when they say _I_ would manipulate you in order to get some bloodlust flowing, though. I pride myself on being a hands-off headmaster-slash-town mayor. All the wonderful hope of escape, all the beautiful despair of death and betrayal... That's all you! I just watch and learn! puhuhuhu! So, wondering how you guys got here? Curious as to _how_ and _why_ you don't know about me and my awesome series of murder games?! I have all the answers!"

The room dimmed even as Makoto felt the tiny flame of the candle to his right radiate wheat. The empty room livened up with a dark susurrus. If Makoto turned around, he bet he would have seen the 79th class whisper and console one another from the nightmare before them. He figured this was the nature of the sound until his ears focused in on it. It resembled a mocking clap.

"You have _all_ the answers?..." The sudden movement at the corner of Makoto's eyes startled him. "Ok then. I'll ask you a question, and you give me your best answer... Monokuma."

"Mrs. Kuroashi!" Monokuma tipped his hat. "Don't worry, you're a special, beautiful person... on the inside. Personally, though, I prefer my bread untoasted, puhuhu!" He put a paw on his chin. "Wait, I forgot: I'm a bear! We don't even eat bread! Anyways, what can I help you with?"

"My my, the affable bear wishes to bring up a woman's old history," Hidetaka whispered.

"Not now, Hide." Ahodori snapped a finger, silencing Hidetaka. "You've had some fun talking about me, but let's talk about _you_. So here's my question to you..."

"... Do you want me to kill you with my bare hands or my knives?"

"Now wait––"

It was over in a flash. Makoto had been staring at Ahodori and Monokuma, but he couldn't explain what occurred: Monokuma disappeared in front of the apparently motionless Ahodori, and in his place fell a slipshod assortment of bolts, beaten metal, frayed wires, and the shredded remains of a pilgrim's hat. Electrical crackling and cacophonous impacts screamed in the room, and Makoto had to look at the stunned expressions around him to accept that the disappearance of Monokuma happened in reality.

"Wh... WHAT THE HELL?!" Hiro yelled out, his hands on his head and his glasses stained with a splatter of black oil.

Byakuya stood up, his fist clenched and directed at Ahodori. "What is the meaning of this?! Do you understand how dangerous Monokuma is?!"

"Dangerous?" Makoto watched in awe as Ahodori pulled out a circular device with a timer attached to it. "This bomb's the only thing that's dangerous about that toy. I already disarmed it. Even the bear's last trick reflects his own vile nature."

"A-Ahodori!" Makoto ran up to Ahodori's side, his heart racing in his chest as he grabbed Ahodori's oil-stained arm. "Please stop this! Monokuma's got back-ups, I know he does! He'll... he'll..." He turned around, facing the squirming audience. "Everyone, spread out! You don't know what he's going to do next!"

It took a moment for many in the group to be cognizant of Makoto's pleas, but, once the danger fully registered, most of the 79th class bolted from the booth to the farthest corners of the room. Hiro joined them with a fit of crying and a call to Vishnu to protect him. Byakuya and Aoi coordinated the retreat, while Toko, Kyoko, Lemeza, Yuta, and Hidetaka remained.

"I'm... I'm ready for w-whatever Monokuma throws at you, idiot!" Toko cried.

"S-s-same, but... but y-y-you're not an i-idiot!" Lemeza retrieved his whip from his waist, clutching it tightly.

"Stay calm," Kyoko said. "I don't want any of you to do anything rash. We have to wait and see what happens." Yuta and Hidetaka nodded at Kyoko.

"Puhu..." That laugh echoed in Makoto's mind, sinking it into an even darker realm. "Puhuhu... AHAHAHAHA! You old crow! I knew I shouldn't have pissed you off! If I were alone––even if I had ten to the sixtieth power of bodies to spare––it'd be the last thing I ever did! Ah... it's a good thing I'm _not_ alone this time."

Another Monokuma jumped up from the bench, and as soon as it appeared, Ahodori vanished from Makoto's grip and sights. He looked up to see Ahodori unleashing a flurry of coordinated punches, kicks, and maneuvers around the air surrounding Monokuma. The two of them jumped here and there, landing at the right corner of the room. Monokuma waltzed backward, shrugging at Ahodori's missed attacks.

"You're in my way, squid," Ahodori muttered out. Before Makoto could blink, black combat knives appeared in her hands. "Time to get serious, then." She danced in the corner, her coat billowing like a peacock's magnificent coverts. It was like Ahodori was writing calligraphy, with her knives as pens and the illustrious lines of light soaring and twirling in the dim room as her artwork.

"It's no use, Mrs. Kuroashi!" Monokuma turned his head to the sky and pumped his fists together, roaring like a reinvigorated warrior. "This is... the power... of FRIENDSHIP!"

At the instance of Monokuma's declaration, a bang ruptured Makoto's senses and nearly pushed him back just with its ripples. Makoto waved his hands around his face, coughing away the dust that had flown into his lungs. He opened his eyes to see what could have caused the near explosion.

Makoto saw Ahodori pushing her blades in front of her. She was in a struggle for dominance against... an upright red squid floating in the air.

"... What?" Makoto thought out loud.

Makoto looked behind himself: everyone looked at flabbergasted as he felt––save for Hidetaka, who seemed to be in a deep sleep.

Makoto looked back at Ahodori and the... squid. He blinked, then he blinked again. She was still locked in by the two most prominent and limber tentacles of the light red, smiling squid. Right, it was smiling––or, at least, something like a smile seemed painted on its mantle with white, incandescent paint. It looked like any other regular red squid (not that Makoto had seen many in his life, especially ones with black suction cups and no actual eyes anywhere on its body), but he cautioned himself that it was anything but. His fears were fully confirmed soon afterwards.

"Yes! These bonds we have made push me to levels I never imagined! Alone, bears and squids can only do so much; but together, we can achieve anything, even the impossible! :"

"Argh!" Makoto grasped his head. He felt an image invading his mind and drilling through his skull. It was... an impression of an emoticon? Just like the one he had seen materialize on the squid's 'face'? Why was he feeling pride swell in himself... that was beyond his own control?

"W-what the hell are you?" Ahodori spat out.

"Upupupupu! Don't you remember me? I, Squiddy the squid, remember you, line-like one! I remember when you born a beautiful baby girl! Oh, you were so adorable, line-like one! I forgive you for forgetting me! :D" The squid, calling itself 'Squiddy', leaned into Ahodori like it was about to whisper something. "I wonder if––" a screeching sound blared in Makoto's already aching head. He fell into his seat and hid his head in his hands. "––can forgive you for forgetting them? :("

Makoto watched with blurry eyes as Ahodori froze at Squiddy's question. Her hands, once exhibiting herculean strength and finesse, clumsily dropped the two knives she was holding. They were followed by her knees when they hit the floor. She arched her head lower and lower until she could go no further; then and there, the once marvelous fighter remained.

"Puhu... puhuhuhu... the despair of forgetting despair and hope, eating away at the forlorn soul searching for solace... how beautiful it is!" Monokuma rubbed his stomach as he walked up to Squiddy. "You're a much better partner in crime than the last few chumps I was stuck with! Nothing weird like a sister complex, or 'honor', or a freaky obsession with hope! Now that you've introduced yourself to Mrs. Kuroashi, maybe it's time we've made some more friends!"

"That's Squiddy the Squid for you! Helping people is its own reward, upupupu! :D" Squiddy put its feeder tentacles on its mantle. "Friends... I love friends, especially young line-like ones! They'll adore my slimy charm! :]"

Makoto looked around himself as Squiddy drifted to the bench, Monokuma in tow. Outside of Hidetaka, everyone had a resigned expression on their face. Aoi and Byakuya directed the slow trudge from the corners of the room to the booths before they themselves sat back down. He sighed as he returned his sights on the occupied bench.

Monokuma coughed. "Ahem, as your town mayor, let me apologize for the minor technical difficulties. Please be aware that I am a merciful bear who will let you all off with a warning: don't try and disrupt our peace! Mrs. Kuroashi will remember this, I hope. Anyways, since you know most of the rules for my latest and greatest killing game, I'll just familiarize you with the... new elements."

"That's me! XP"

"Yup! It's a squid! You see, Rome wasn't built in a day, but this town was! And do you know how? I made a partnership with the local population––this squid! In return for allowing me to host my game here, I've designated Squiddy the Squid as your supervisor during the game."

"Yes yes! I miss seeing line-like ones be line-like, so I grabbed the opportunity. Now, as your supervisor, my role here is very simple: I am here to watch over you! This land is peaceful, and I would love to keep it that way. Think of me as your guardian angel, protecting you while you sleep... bathe... change... ;)" Squiddy's ten tentacles wrapped around itself as it started huffing and puffing. "Oh no, I think I'm about to ink! :O"

"... I... didn't need to know that," Masumi said.

"Sorry, line-like one named Masumi! In addition to securing your safety, I can also act as your tour guide for this town! It's my home, so I know it like the back of my hand. Whenever Mr. Monokuma approves, I can also transport you to different locations for field trips and adventures! Now isn't that fun? I think it's fun! :)"

"Once you see all the wonderful vacation spots I've got planned for you, you'll see that my game's to die for!" Monokuma rolled around on the bench, laughing uncontrollably. "Oh, and one more thing. Since I think despair is a dish best served with love, I ain't going to provide you motives and all that boring crap. Let's just say that, instead, what I'll offer is..." his eye glowed again, "... mercy."

"Mercy?" Makoto stood up. "What do you mean, 'mercy'?"

Monokuma shook his head. "Makoto, Makoto, Makoto. I can't spoil the surprise just yet. Take your time enjoying your generations trip, then maybe I'll tell you!"

"Line-like one named Makoto, I can tell you that awesome things await your imminent future! If you're a member of this thing called 'the Future Foundation', does that mean you can see the future, though? Spoooooky! XO"

"..." Makoto snuck into his seat. His hopes for a game he could predict and control were dashed and scattered into the vast sea of despair. Did his friends feel the same way too? Could any of them explain the circumstances behind Monokuma's return, the strange new participants of his dreadful game, and the presence of a 'supervisor' so unnatural?

"Welp, I think this has been a satisfactory town meeting. If there're no questions to be raised––and I mean _real_ questions––I'll be more than happy to adjourn this meeting!"

"Questions? Yes, I have one!" Hidetaka's voice ringed in Makoto's ears, and he forced himself to look as Hidetaka strolled from his seat to the front of the bench. "Forgive me, for I am perennially weary and a bit too young, but I have something of a basic question."

"Line-like one named Hidetaka, ask away! :3"

"Yeah, do it so I can get some sleepy eye, too!"

"Well..." Hidetaka tapped his way to Ahodori and raised her up, holding her hand along as he moved her from the corner she had hidden in to his seat. Monokuma gave a scoff at the act but let it pass. He then returned to the front of the bench, looked up at the two animals, then glanced at each and every one of the group, a mirthful smile on his face and clear eyes looking forward. "Killing is optional, correct?"

"Hm..." Monokuma rested his chin on his paw. "Yup! You can all live uneventful lives in this town, and I'll be fine either way! Like I said, I pride myself on being a hands-off game master."

"Then it's settled!" Hidetaka raised a finger into the air. "I will play your game by not playing! The pacifist route, if you will humor me."

"Hide..." Makoto raised an eyebrow at the strange display of positivity. "What are you... talking about?"

"... I am friends with all of you." Hide laughed. "And, beyond that, life is beautiful. We have some interesting talents that I have no doubt could help the world in many ways, but talent and how useful we are to the world aren't really that important: what I care about is you as you are. It's been a short time since our introduction, yes, but I consider Makoto and all of his classmates invaluable. I'm... hm..." He grabbed his chin.

"Oh, yes! I'm saying the future is secondary to the people who'll live in it. "

* * *

Makoto would have preferred a different explanation for how he acquired his first house.

Lying on a sparse bed in a dim room, Makoto wished he had something other than the past few hours to think about. Even his dirty clothes couldn't distract him, now that he had changed into a new suit found in the spacious closet of his bedroom. He humored himself with an image of Hide sleeping on any adequate surface of his house, and the image elicited an amused chuckle.

" _Ok, kids, since I know it's hard to tell, it is now night time! Please be aware that during night time, you are prohibited from exploring certain areas of the town. That means no binging in the tavern! Otherwise, do whatever it is you please during the night! Hope you get plenty of shuteye, though, cause I'll make sure to wake you up early in the morning to greet a new day! With that out of the way, this town meeting is adjourned! Return to your houses if you want to review some of the finer details of your new life here! Puhuhuhu!_ "

Monokuma's final point did nothing to alleviate the miasma of defeat clouding the group. With a collective grumble, the group exited the room and left the hall. Makoto, recalling Kyoko's request, briefly observed the gaits of Yuta and Lemeza. Nothing seemed particularly off: Lemeza, skittish as always, crawled his way out; Yuta, who seemed remarkably composed about the whole affair, walked with his hands in his pockets. Makoto noted that he was the last to descend down the stairs, as he sat down on them and closed his eyes for a brief while before moving on, but that was all.

He wanted to check up on his friends and the 79th class, but he felt a barrier raised from all of them––save for Hide, who had fallen into a deep sleep after asking his question and was thus being carried along by a mute Ahodori. Makoto followed them along to the road left of the town hall's entrance, going down a windy, dilapidated path showcasing evenly spaced out, rectangular houses. As soon as they got there, members of the 79th class started splintering off from the group and headed straight to specific houses. The group reached a cul-de-sac with six houses, and Makoto realized that he and his classmates were the only ones left. Beyond the houses was a muddy plain encased in fog, where only the tops of leafless trees could be seen peeking through some distance away.

The six Future Foundation members nodded at each other, warming up the atmosphere a bit. Byakuya immediately marched to the nicest looking house on the cul-de-sac, Toko scampering away to neighbor with him. Hiro went off to the house on the far left, saying he felt a certain 'feng shui' coming from it. Aoi and Kyoko agreed to neighbor with each other, and Makoto accepted the last house on the right next to Kyoko.

Overall, he couldn't say he had poor accommodations. His two-story house had a living room filled with books, multiple guest rooms, two clean bathrooms, and this bedroom. Thankfully, his stairs didn't make any strange sounds, and everything was illuminated by pleasant-smelling candles. No surveillance cameras were present in his house, but he was still wary of letting his guard down. Nonetheless, he felt a soothing warmth flow through his body.

" _Hide... He's optimistic_." Makoto smiled, his mind getting cloudy. " _And he's right. We're all friends here: it seems like the 79_ _th_ _class go way back, and they look up to us, in their own ways. We're going to get to know them a bit more... then we'll see that there's nothing to worry about. We'll definitely stop Monokuma and his new 'friend'. Because..._ "

He closed his eyes. " _Hope keeps going._ "

* * *

 **Notes:** Now wasn't that a strange turn of events? The game's on, and it's something you can never get fully used to. But there is hope, and that hope lies in you. We've officially reached the beginning of my story's daily life section. These sections mainly focus on character interaction and development. Since my plot is crystallized, most of the interactions are set in stone. I have decided, however, to offer some unguided direction to my readers. All daily life sections will include one free time event chapter, where DR characters of my choice will interact with selected OCs. How will I select which OCs will get their FTEs written? Why, through my readers, of course!

Www. Strawpoll . me /10817770

Posted above is the strawpoll I will use to determine the OCs for chapter I's FTE (Get rid of the spaces in between to view the poll itself!). You are allowed to pick up to three OCs. The poll will be considered until August 5th . Once it is August 5th, I will gather the top 3 choices and write their FTEs as the sixth chapter. I can't wait to see who you'll pick!

Until then, my darling readers!


	5. Chapter 1: Part IV

**Notes:** Hello, beloved readers! I apologize for the relative lateness of this chapter, as I have been balancing my wild theorizing and discussions about Danganronpa 3 with my productive life! May I just say that the real fool is me, for making my bold declaration regarding *that* character only to be proven dead (or, rather, alive?) wrong the following week? I still have much to learn from Kodaka-but that is in the past.

Addendum: To clarify, the events of this story take place around three years after the events of Danganronpa and (I want to say) two years after the events of Super Danganronpa 2. This will be important, so some additional context should help you out.

For the real interesting news, let's see which three of my OCs will have their Free-Time Events written!

Out of 11 votes:

Ahodori Kuroashi, Lemeza Go, and Asami Seishin won with two votes each!

I see you guys couldn't resist the magic of Asami! I can't wait to unearth some of Lemeza's quirks and history! No more will Ahodori be kept under bandages and wraps! We'll see what these three have in store next chapter. Enough of that, though:

Have you heard of Via Desperatio?

* * *

Makoto awoke from a dreamless sleep to the distant tolling of a bell. Lifting a hefty eyelid up, he looked at the dark ceiling and wondered what time it could be. A sloppy yawn escaped his lips as he rolled to his right, more interested in the thought of leaving his bed than actually doing it.

"Eww, Line-like Makoto, you have drool stains! XP"

Makoto found he had been persuaded to leave his bed. "What the?! H-how'd you get in here?!"

Makoto scraped his feet against the floor, causing a gooey sound to rip in the room. Looking down, he saw that a gelatinous substance was underneath him. It had a dull glimmer to it, and it stuck to the bottom of Makoto's bare feet without pull or feel.

"Upup! Did I drool too?! Oopsies! You are just so adorable when you sleep that I couldn't keep myself from watching my line-like guest during night time! :$"

Makoto gripped his head as he felt his cheeks grow red and pictured another emoticon burst through his cracked skull. "Damn it... How are you... doing this...?"

Squiddy rubbed one of its feeder tentacles on the bottom of its searing white 'face'. "We Antediluvians are complex friends, line-like Makoto. Our only way of expressing ourselves to you is... acting like line-like ones! And line-like ones use lots of body language to communicate, so we're doing the same thing. XD"

"Ante..." Another spike jabbed through his head, and with it came a shrill fit of laughter from Makoto, "... Aha––wh––haha––wha––ha––what?"

"Upupupu! I leaked a bit more than ink! I'm sorry, line-like Makoto, but you need to go outside and enjoy your town life without me! I have to do my job as your supervisor, first and foremost! :|" Makoto's blurry vision caught a glimpse of Squiddy's floating through the room and out the doorway to the exit. "Get a good breakfast, line-like Makoto! Be sure to check your suit for a coooooool gift from your mayor! :)"

With a groan, Makoto settled his mind and sat back down on his bed. He wondered whether his easy fall into sleep meant anything bad. Was he getting so used to his increasingly bizarre life that a day wherein he awoke in a foreboding town, met a mummy along with a new Hope's Peaks class, and forced into another killing game by Monokuma and a talking squid warranted soothe rest? He shook his throbbing head and idly dusted off his suit.

He stopped himself as he touched something hard inside his suit. Opening it up, he found a stuffed pocket. He rummaged through it. He pulled out a miniature tablet of familiar design––cool black, with a minimalistic design and a stainless glass screen. A chill crawled through his bones, and he hesitated for a moment before slowly tapping his finger on the glass screen. The screen glowed harsh whites and calming blues:

ELECTRONIC STUDENT E-HANDBOOK

e-Handbook model 2.0

It was everything he had expected. Flicking across the tiny screen led to a menu with the standard options: map, 'citizen' profiles, rules and regulations. The map revealed the general shape of the town to be a vaguely triangular area bordering a sea named 'Suijin's Sea' and a grayed out area titled 'The Expanse'; the map revealed the name of the town, too, above an abstract of the grand fountain, in stark letters: 'Enoshima'. Coldness dripped within the confines of his spirit, and he did not know whether he had willed himself to turn off the screen or if his mindless hands had just happened to deactivate it.

When the freeze subsided, he got up on his feet, dressed in a suit from the numerous collection in his closet, and exited the room. He whistled as he descended down the stairs in front of him, thinking of what he would feed himself with.

"You're up late." A calm voice slipped through from the right of the stairs, past the entrance to a guest room.

"I think I deserve some sleep after yesterday," Makoto replied. He yawned as he reached the first floor, rubbing a closed eye.

That closed eye shot right up after a second of thinking. "Wait, who's there?!" He ran to the right, stopping at the guest room's entrance, and poked his head out.

Kyoko sat on a wooden chair, a hand on a book resting on a table. Placed ahead of the book were six glittering spots of varying colors. Her eyes were affixed on the book's inside. "Good morning to you too, Makoto."

Makoto stepped into the guest room, breathing out. "Geez, you scared me." He moved to a chair facing Kyoko and sat on it. "How'd you even get inside here?"

"The front door." Kyoko flipped to the next page of the book.

"Well, duh. This house doesn't have any windows or other entrances."

"You forgot to lock your front door." Kyoko looked at him with a slight frown on her face. "A basic mistake like that could put you in big danger."

Makoto put a hand on his forehead. "... You're right. I totally didn't think of that!" He sunk into his seat. "But are you really worried someone's actually going to...?"

"Can't be too careful. Maybe no one is directly planning a kill, but it could be something as small as seeing an unlocked door that gets them to start thinking about it."

"I believe in these kids––they're better than that." Makoto smiled. "But thanks for looking out for me. I'll keep this place secured just so I don't have to deal with... unwanted guests."

"And I thought you liked me." A smirk emerged on Kyoko's face. "I'm hurt, but I understand. Your keys should be on your bed stand if every house is uniformed."

"W-what?! I didn't mean that... As a guest, I would totally want you!" Makoto felt his cheeks get a bit warm. "Wait, that came out wrong! I!... Ugh, did you not see, um, 'Squiddy' pass by?"

Kyoko narrowed her eyes. "I tried to ignore that thing. I could hear it... _existing_ when I arrived here, and I heard your talk with it. It's best for my sanity to ignore it, since it seems to ignore me." She put a hand on the table, pointing to the gemstones. "I want to talk about something else. What do these things remind you of?"

Makoto picked up one of the gemstones and searched his memories. "These kinda look like the trinket you use to keep track of time, right?"

"Correct, because they're all part of my system. I found them when I went through my clothes." She glared at the center of one of the rocks. "Everything appears to be in order... and that's a problem."

"I see... If the clothing in your house follows the same pattern, then the mastermind must have known about it. If they did, they could have messed with the system––like by putting your original gem inside a different suit and changing you into that suit––to make it look like you were wearing the same clothes. That way, you'd really have no good way of guessing how accurate your memory was."

"Correct. I have also considered a scenario where whoever kidnapped us just took our clothing and possessions while we were unconscious and then arranged our housing without knowledge of my memory trick. I admit this explanation is weakened by their thorough removal of all electronics that could be used to contact the outside world, but it's a possibility nonetheless. In any case," Kyoko crossed her arms, "I'm right back to square one regarding how and when we arrived here."

"We'll find out what happened. With all of us working together, we'll even make sure this doesn't happen again."

"It never hurts to hope." Kyoko closed the book on the table and let out a smile. "Did you check on Lemeza and Yuta?"

"Yeah. Yuta seems to be careful with his steps, and he does seem to stop a lot. I didn't see anything special about Lemeza, though. He just seems... nervous." Makoto shrugged and looked at the book's cover. He could see some letters printed on its leather spine.

"..." Kyoko pocketed the gemstones and stood up. "You hungry? Let's get some breakfast."

"Uh, sure." Makoto stood up as well. "Where to, though? Nothing really stands out as a place to go eat."

"Did you not check your e-handbook? It's the tavern in the town's center. Follow me––we've got some more stuff to talk about." She exited the guest room. Before Makoto followed her, he took a look at the book one more time.

* * *

" _Hope and the Infinite,_ huh..."

"I found it in your collection. You should read it yourself. Then we can talk about it."

Makoto and Kyoko's walk to the town center was uneventful. Their voices and footsteps moved freely down the lonely path, and the only thing they sighted of interest, a pile of tree trunks with black wood that hadn't been there yesterday, lay neatly arranged at the side of one house's walkway. They had reviewed each other's familiarity with the e-handbooks, and Makoto was somewhat relieved to learn that the rules and regulations were similar to before:

 **RULE 1** : PLAYERS MAY SAFELY RESIDE IN AUTHORIZED AREAS. YOU ARE LIABLE FOR ALL ACTIONS DONE OUTSIDE THESE AUTHORIZED AREAS.

 **RULE 2** : "NIGHTTIME" IS FROM 10PM TO 7AM. SOME AREAS BECOME UNAUTHORIZED AT NIGHT, SO PLEASE EXERCISE CAUTION.

 **RULE 3** : WITH MINIMAL RESTRICTIONS, YOU ARE FREE TO SLEEP IN ANY AREA.

 **RULE 4** : EXPLORATION OF ALL AUTHORIZED AREAS IS UNRESTRICTED.

 **RULE 5** : VIOLENCE AGAINST THE GAME MASTER IS PROHIBITED, AS IS LITTERING OF SUIJIN'S SEA.

 **RULE 6** : THE PLAYER WHO INTENTIONALLY KILLS ANOTHER PLAYER WILL BECOME THE "BLACKENED" AND WIN, UNLESS THEY ARE DISCOVERED.

 **RULE 7** : ADDITIONAL SCHOOL RULES MAY BE ADDED IF NECESSARY

If anything, the rules seemed more lenient. Still, Makoto had to close his eyes and retreat his hands into his pockets.

"... Something's bothering you." Kyoko's voice reached his left ear. "'Enoshima'... I doubt it's a coincidence too."

Makoto flinched at that name. Slowly, he pulled a hand out from his pocket and rested it over his heart. "Junko... could it really be her? Or maybe a follower?"

"I can't say. We need more evidence before we can reach a conclusion." Kyoko paused. "Whatever we discover... stick through it."

"..." Makoto felt a spark of energy somewhere within himself and had to smile. He opened his eyes. "I will, for everyone's sake."

"...Hm," Kyoko let out. Makoto wondered what she was thinking until he heard a muffled chuckle escape her shaking lips.

Makoto, feeling that spark of energy fly away, sighed. "Oh god, what'd I do this time?"

"It's nothing." Kyoko restrained her chuckle with a slight smirk. "You just... remind me of someone."

Makoto looked to the sky. "Riiight..."

"I won't spoil the surprise," Kyoko said.

The pair arrived at the town center and headed right to the wood buildings with the balcony. Glancing at the ground level windows of the buildings allowed Makoto to see a comforting glow sparkle through. He had seen a billow of smoke ascend some distance away from his home, and, after observing some chopped logs resting on each building's side, concluded that a hot fireplace must be inside the building. He caught a whiff of cooked meat in the air as he imagined a warmth tingle his palms. This definitely was the tavern.

Leaning on a wall to the side of the farthest entrance to the tavern was Yuta. Makoto peeked at Kyoko and found that she had done the same. They approached him.

"Good morning, Yuta." Makoto attempted to give him a wave and a polite smile.

Yuta looked Makoto in the eye. Red lines marked his sclera, and what looked like a circle of black ink stained the bottoms of his eyes. "..."

Makoto frowned. "What happened, did you not sleep well last night? Need to talk about something?"

"... You two." Yuta slowly stood on his feet. "My class is waiting for you inside. We have information."

"We were going to get breakfast, anyway." Kyoko moved ahead of Makoto. "Let's see what they have to tell us." She disappeared through the entrance.

Makoto followed up until he was at the side parallel to Yuta's. "Did you volunteer to wait for us?"

"Do you like asking questions that don't contribute to anything?"

Makoto reeled back. "H-hey, I'm just curious! I just want to see how you're adjusting to the group dynamic."

Bloodshot eyes fell on Makoto once more. "Answering your questions may get you to be proactive. Yes: I did volunteer. No: I didn't sleep last night. Maybe: I'll talk to you if it's useful."

Makoto rubbed the back of his neck. " _That was... one way to break the ice?"_ He thought. "How about I stop 'wasting time' and just see what's going on inside? Thanks for waiting for me, by the way."

"You're welcome, ..." Yuta mumbled something inaudible.

Makoto moved in closer, a bit surprised. "Huh?"

"Nothing." And Yuta spoke no more.

* * *

Makoto felt an inviting ambiance string him along the brown hallway past the entrance. Following the sounds of crackling wood, he passed through a mahogany double door and saw a hall stretch out before him. Numerous wooden tables furnished the hall, and a long sideboard to his left showcased a cornucopia of fruits, vegetables, and various meat dishes. He saw a flight of stairs lead up to a second floor he could only see the railings of. Somewhere, perhaps in the pocketed area some distance behind the sideboard, a lovely orange light seeped out to find a home in the hallway, filling it with the colors of a seaside sunset.

At a large round table sat the majority of the 79th class and Makoto's classmates. Aoi and Murasaki, both dressed in what looked like workout clothes, waved excitedly at Makoto as he picked through some food offerings. Daisuke was chomping down on his third (and soon to be empty) food plate while Lemeza desperately pleaded for Emilia to give his apple back to him, to which Emilia responded with a declaration that she was only protecting him from 'sinful temptation'. Masumi was humming some oddly energetic beat and repeatedly looked at the entrance but acknowledged Makoto with a smile. Kyoko sipped a cup of what Makoto presumed was coffee, and Takato sat with crossed arms next to Byakuya and a somewhat disheveled Toko, his eyes on Makoto throughout.

"Hi, everyone." Makoto sat down next to Kyoko. "Where are the rest of us?"

"Asami can always be relied on to sleep in, and I forgive Ahodori for taking some time to recover from... yesterday." Takato narrowed his eyes. "Hide apparently prefers starvation to disturbing his sleep cycle, so his presence wasn't expected."

"You missed out, Hina." Murasaki sighed. "With sensei, we'd really be pushed to our limits."

"I believe that!" Aoi exclaimed. "She scared me at first, but she's really just you guys' guardian angel! If you're wondering about Hiro, he's fine: we passed by him wandering around 'thinking about something important'."

Byakuya scoffed. "Ahodori isn't relevant to this meeting unless she needs to be. Takato, proceed."

Letting out a heavy breath, Takato took his glasses off and rested a hand on his head. "... Have you heard of Via Desperatio?"

"V-v-v-via––Vi-a..." Lemeza's eyes started watering. Emilia embraced him, her fangs pushing dangerously against her lips.

Daisuke grasped his leather collar. "T-Takato! This is a joke, right?! Right?!"

Masumi widened her eyes and nearly choked on her food. "Via Desperatio?!... Takato, do you really think––?"

"No," Kyoko answered before Makoto could even consider the question.

"... I see." Takato sighed. "Then we are parallels of each other."

Byakuya looked askance at Takato. "And what does that mean?"

"Via Desperatio is, in one sentence, history's most dangerous terrorist organization." The shadows residing on Takato's face obscured his eyes, and his still voice silenced the crackling fire.

"W-what?" Aoi patted a jittery hand on Murasaki's shaking back. "That's––that's not true. How can they be any worse than..."

"We clearly must be remembering different worlds." Takato pushed his empty plate away, resting his hands on the table. "Because, as we remember things, the Future Foundation's primary goal was to free the world from Via Desperatio."

"That's..." Makoto wondered if he was dreaming as he looked down to see his fists on his upper legs. "That's wrong. We're fighting against Ultimate Despair!"

"Ultimate Despair?" Masumi brushed a few fingers through her hair. "Are you, perhaps, mistaking Via Desperatio's name? It means, 'The Way to Despair', so, maybe..."

"Impossible." Byakuya's words slashed through his tight sneer. "Nothing compares to Ultimate Despair. When we said the world was almost destroyed, do you know who were the perpetrators of that disaster? It was Ultimate Despair, and they are far from defeated."

"Ah..." Takato shook his head. "So Ultimate Despair 'destroyed the world'? Interesting contrast, and a scenario I'd prefer."

"W-what?!" Toko spat out. "Y-y-you want Ultimate Despair?! Are you insane?!"

"... Is oblivion not preferable to unremitting, absolute enslavement?"

"Before we start comparing," Kyoko's said sternly, "why don't we start from the beginning? Tell us about Via Desperatio, and then we'll tell you about Ultimate Despair."

"... To think, not everyone solemnly acknowledged their existence." Takato chuckled quietly. "Via Desperatio origins are largely unknown, but it is commonly accepted that its earliest activities began roughly a decade ago. First came a manifesto: self-actualization can only be realized through the Way to Despair; the world had drunk the poison of hope, and the only way to resuscitate it and the individuals who live in it was to reject hope and longing for a 'shallow' future. From the manifesto birthed followers of the way, who took the message as an auger of a new age. Conquest, subjugation, and tyranny defined them and made them stronger. So, off these followers went––"

"––servile and made hollow by their 'edifying' leader, intent on grinding the world under its heel."

Makoto bolted around, shocked awake from the enthralling summary. Before him stood Yuta, his eyes like red discs within the orange hue of the tavern. "At their strongest, Via Desperatio converted half of the world's population to its cause."

Takato nodded. "Yes... Whether it was through subterfuge, ultimatums, or ruthless violence, many learned to follow the way. Perhaps, from an impartial standpoint, the Future Foundation could be argued to have been just as worthy as Via Desperatio to be called the world ender."

" _World... ender._ " Makoto shivered as those words rang in his mind.

"The Future Foundation pushed them back, but the leader and other key figures of Via Desperatio disappeared. In all likelihood, they handed an illusory victory to the Future Foundation." Yuta moved to the table and sat down next to Masumi.

"... Interesting tale." Byakuya hid his eyes underneath the shine of his glasses. "But we have our own story." He turned to Makoto. "Why don't you tell them, Makoto?'

Makoto groaned in his head but kept his outward expression composed. If anything, the order agitated him enough to do something other than worry. "Ultimate Despair... everything you really need to know about it can be learned from its name. Their only purpose is to push the entire world into despair, and to do it, they'll commit the ultimate sacrifices on others, each other, and even themselves. It all began with..." Makoto tried to avert eye contact with the table. "Junko Enoshima. It was her insane obsession with despair that led to The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History."

"... What?" Yuta's thin face grew almost childishly plump when he raised his eyebrow.

Makoto stared at Yuta. "The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History."

"That is the most asinine title I have ever heard," Yuta said.

Makoto raised his hands up over his chest. "Hey! I didn't come up with the name! Blame Junko!"

Yuta scoffed. "This Junko is an idiot. I could have been a better orchestrator of... _whatever_ jumble of synonyms you want to call it."

"Yuta!" Masumi yelled. "We need to learn more from them––and besides," Masumi rubbed her forehead, "that name is... too familiar."

Yuta leaned towards Makoto. "Continue."

"R-right." Makoto coughed. "Junko Enoshima was our... classmate. She worked in the shadows corrupting Hope's Peak Academy so that it would collapse. When she succeeded there, the despair of Hope's Peak spread throughout the world––a new type of war was born. It was a war fought not for ideologies, justice, power, or even self-preservation: the only thing that mattered was the perpetuation of ultimate despair. Even after her death, her despair threatened to consume the world and the people who lived in it." Makoto shook his head. "We thought we had finally pushed Ultimate Despair back with that last killing game, but now... I doubt it."

"It's safe to say that... 'Monokuma' was involved with the previous killing games and Ultimate Despair?" Takato asked.

"Yes, Junko controlled Monokuma in both killing games. That's why I know they have something to do with this game!"

"Hm..." Takato tapped the arms of his glasses. "Were I in your position, I would assume so, too." He took out his e-handbook from his suit. "The name of this town is a bit too coincidental, after all. But... Ultimate Despair emerged when you were still students of Hope's Peak. Via Desperatio, on the other hand, has ruled a significant portion of the world for over a decade. Can you explain this discrepancy?"

"That... uh..." Makoto ran his hand through his hair. "I... really don't know what's going on."

"Then let me ask a few questions," Byakuya said. "So this 'Via Desperatio' organization values despair, does it? But does it see despair as the end of the organization itself, or more of a tool?"

"It's more of the latter, I suppose: despair, to Via Desperatio, is the key to the future. They desire absolute power and control over the world, and they see despair as the greatest manifestation of power."

"So this organization wants control..." Byakuya nodded. "And you said the Future Foundation fought them back? When exactly did this occur?"

"From the start, the Future Foundation fought off Via Desperatio. Via Desperatio started getting pushed back... some five years ago."

Kyoko, who had been jotting down notes throughout the conversation, suddenly raised her head and looked at Byakuya. "Five years. Shouldn't something five years ago ring any bells?"

"...!" Byakuya nearly stood from his seat. "You're not suggesting there's a connection between our admittance into Hope's Peak and Via Desperatio?!"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting." Kyoko crossed her arms. "There's something connecting Via Desperatio to Ultimate Despair, and it isn't just a fascination with despair. Maybe we forgot more than just our school memories––the 79th class have forgotten about Ultimate Despair, so why should we trust our memory of events?"

"T-that's, t-that's so absurd!" Toko slammed her hand down on the table. "Why not just erase all of our memories and turn us into blank slates, then?!"

"I'm not the mastermind," Kyoko said coolly. "But there has to be something hiding inside this mess. To find that something, we have to entertain every possibility."

"Including the possibility that Ultimate Despair is a false memory, implanted by Monokuma to disguise Via Desperatio?" Makoto gawked at Yuta, who had raised that question with such bitterness that Makoto had felt his blood cool inside his body.

"Are you suspecting me of something?" Kyoko glared back at Yuta.

"I'm entertaining every possibility," Yuta retorted. "Our memory of Via Desperatio could be fabricated to cause a schism between your class and our class. It's also possible both of our memories are mendacious or neither of our memories are suspect. Maybe we're all lying to you to get you to fall into despair, or maybe you're lying to us to better control us. We're in a situation where we can't even confirm that Monokuma and his 'supervisor' are our enemies."

Takato, glasses back on his face, glared at Yuta as well. "Yuta, what do we gain from antagonizing the Future Foundation?"

Byakuya raised an authoritative hand at Takato. "He's doing the smart thing. Like it or not, this revelation puts into question all of our presuppositions. Right now, we can't take _anything_ for granted." He smirked. "Suppose I was trying to do you harm: would I prefer you to think of me as an enemy to be watched out for or as a friend to trust with your life? If I'm your enemy, I'd have to work very hard to get you to fall for a trap; if I'm your 'friend', all I'd have to do is politely ask you to walk into it."

Takato bit his lips. "T-that's... Well, um, I mean..."

"It's absolutely the case. Blind faith will only get you killed." Byakuya's smirk faded into what Makoto thought looked like a softer expression.

Kyoko watched the dialogue, and slowly nodded after its end. "He's right. Yuta, your concerns are understandable. I can't dissolve them just yet, and perhaps I shouldn't try to. This is a strange situation we're in, but we can find some common ground knowing that and work from there."

Yuta nodded. "Then we will work to whatever end shows itself."

"I... want to trust the Future Foundation." Masumi stood up. "I'll trust that they have answers to our puzzle." She held a hand out to Makoto. "I want you to trust us... about Via Desperatio. Together, we can see who's really behind this game."

Makoto also stood up. Glancing at Kyoko, Byakuya, and Yuta, he gave each of them something of a cheeky grin. He then took Masumi's hand and shook it. "I'll trust you guys. Whatever's up with our memories, we won't fall to despair––no matter what it calls itself."

* * *

Makoto unlocked his front door and stepped inside, wondering how he'd spend the rest of his long day. This dead time could be used to rest and contemplate on what had occurred in breakfast, he considered for a moment. That moment passed with a rejection of that option, as he was too energized to simply sleep off today's early drama. He already fled yesterday, after all.

The breakfast group departed shortly after Makoto's declaration of trust. They all went their separate ways, and Makoto did not pass by any of the missing members of the group during his trot back home. Perhaps he should search for Hide and inform him of the developments he had slept through? Maybe one of Hiro's completely off-the-wall ideas might produce in Makoto an answer to at least some of the questions left in the air? Hiro always said he knew everything about this insane theory or that crazy conspiracy.

" _Oh, right! That reminds me,_ " Makoto thought as he slipped into the guest room he met Kyoko in. He sat down and looked at the book from before–– _Hope and the Infinite_. With idle hands, he opened the cover and flipped to the first printed page.

* * *

HOPE AND THE INFINITE

by

MONDAY'S HOPE


	6. Chapter 1: Part V (FTE)

**Notes:** Aaaaaand it's here at last, beautiful readers! The free-time events that you all voted for! I took my sweet time writing these three events and making sure they were up to my standards. The entirety of this story is for my own edification, but it's also my way of entertaining you. This chapter, especially, is made for my beautiful readers! It's important to note that these FTE will be referenced by the rest of the story, so things might turn out very interesting in the long-run, depending on your future choices.

Ah, the future... brimming with possibilities. How have you been handling the Despair and Future of Danganronpa 3? I have to say, I've adopted the mindset of a certain character and just stopped thinking about theories! Each episode surprises and baffles me so! I trust you're handling these things better than I, though.

As always, I encourage you to critique my chapter! Was it good? How could it be improved? All things I want to know! I also appreciate discussions about theories, characters, etc.

With that said, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Until next time, beautiful readers!

* * *

 _Mankind's nature can be understood through semiotics._

 _The cultivation and blossoming of ideologies can be owed to the symbols created in the collective consciousness of ideologues. Each individual contributes to the furthering of a conceit, and yet each individual is molded by the greater structure_ they _create. In this, man and his beliefs are like the cells within a flower. And as flowers present myriad of hues, so, too, do human collectives dream variegated symbols. The history of Despair is one of turbulent cycles, impetuous whim, and grim acknowledgment of self. The guiding symbol of Despair is Revolving Monochrome._

 _Hope's flower is different. Observing Hope, its developments are grand: explorers risked life and limb to discover what lay beyond the seemingly finite horizon; artists, inspired by the gifts of sight and nature, sought to replicate and surpass the beauty before them; religious men renounced the limits of human nature and held faith in the ultimate righteousness of existence. Is it any wonder that in the first of days God created the infinite heavens and the endless earth? Creation of the boundless––creation of Monday––could not have occurred were it not for hope._

 _Hope. The flower of Hope is Boundless Space._

* * *

 **/Makoto\/Ahodori\**

* * *

"...Ok?"

Makoto closed _Hope and the Infinite_ and shrugged. Whoever understood the nature of Hope like this certainly had a different perspective on life. Hope... is like infinity? He knew it only as an instinct; it was an intense power most potent in dire circumstances, and it awoke in him a state of mind he couldn't quite describe. If there was one message he could connect with in the first page, it was that Hope can do the impossible.

Or almost the impossible. Makoto would have to do something besides hope for the time to pass. He also wasn't keen on continuing the book––he felt a migraine approaching, and doing something else could assist in digesting the material.

Makoto exited his house and looked around his little cul-de-sac. The Expanse greeted itself with an opaque fog at the boundaries of an increasingly familiar jagged path. It was a strange environment, both more and less vibrant than a colorful school's hallways and barricaded windows. Whistling a tune that he couldn't quite recall the name of (but recalled it playing in happier days), he stepped down from his porch and wandered down the path.

Makoto's meandering made him a guest to a shrill but upbeat buzzing somewhere nearby. He kept whistling along, noticing how well the tune complemented his own beat. Feeling a bit more spring in his steps, he moved on to different things. Then, just as he passed one of the many houses on the path, it stopped. He halted his walk and his whistling and turned. An image of another house appeared to him.

A minute or so passed before Makoto faced the path again. He shrugged and took a step forward. A click echoed in his ear, and he turned again, a bemused expression on his face. The house's porch had an occupant now, whose blue eye he could discern was closed as she leaned on a railing.

A smile emerged on Makoto's face, and he followed the neatly bricked road to Ahodori with gusto. The air became more damp and cold as he moved down the road, with his breath thickening into little vapors halfway through. He had to thank the Future Foundation's verdict of him for his newfound resilience: after more than a few nights sleeping on some cold pavement in a drenched suit, this was a luxury to the senses. She hadn't opened her eye yet or done anything to suggest she noticed his approach. A moment's deliberation led him to stand a respectable distance from her and wait.

Ahodori slowly nodded and stood, turning to Makoto. Her chest swelled and relaxed once, then she opened her eye. A hand shot up to cover her concealed mouth.

"... Makoto," Ahodori said.

Makoto waved a hand, still smiling. "Hi, Ahodori."

"What can I do for you?"

"Nothing in particular. I just wanted to check up on you. I ate breakfast with everyone earlier. We... learned a lot of weird things."

Her hands retreated to her coat. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

He put a hand up in protest. "It's alright. You were amazing yesterday, so you've done enough. In any other scenario, the problem would have been over."

She chuckled. "I suppose if life had to throw a 'squid' at me to slow me down, I must be doing something right."

He nodded. "You're right! Have you always been that..."

"That... fast, strong, or skilled? Yes, on all counts."

"Ha! I was expecting you to be more modest." He softened his voice. "I'm happy to see your mood improve, though."

"My apologies." She shook her head. "My little surprise is still affecting me. Music always cheers me up..."

He tilted his head. "Music? I heard some when I was passing by. It's why I managed to find you here. Were you playing some?"

Her eye widened. "You..." She recomposed herself. "I'm getting sloppy if I didn't notice you sneaking up on me... rat."

"J-just an honest stroke of luck, is all! Haha..." A weak grin was plastered on his face. " _No amount of luck in the world can save me from that glare!"_

"Relax." She huffed. "You're more like a pigeon, anyway. Hide played my favorite song on his kazoo."

"Oh, that makes sense." He wrapped a hand on his chin. "Since you brought Hide back with you after the 'meeting', he probably wanted to repay the favor."

"That he did." If his eyes were not deceiving him, a little coating of pink teased its presence on the sliver of pale skin underneath her eye. "He waited all night at my bedside, just so he could play for me when I woke up."

"You two are really close." He smiled. "Like family."

She closed her eye. "Aren't we all family: Hide would say that. His youth is charming."

"He's right, though: you're family to the 79th class. You're willing to risk your life for them, and Daisuke even calls you 'ma'!"

"More of a Godmother, really." She tapped a finger on her cheek. "I _did_ tell him to climb up a Giant Sequoia when he was younger, though, and his mother always told me I gave birth to a monster that day. Not my finest hour, but I guess that explains that?"

"Why did you...?" He shook the astonishment from his mind. "So, you know his mom?"

"... I..." she stared at her hand, "know all of their parents."

"Really?" He approached her.

"Yes... but I don't remember many details."

His shoulders slugged down, but he still moved closer. "It must have been Monokuma and his supervisor. Our class can't remember what the kids do, and vice versa." He sighed. "Ultimate Despair... Via Desperatio... what is the truth?"

"Via Desperatio is a name I can never forget." She leaned on the railing as Makoto stopped next to her. "I have forgotten many things, though..."

"..." He leaned on the railing as well and found himself staring at her bandaged face. "I wish I could help you with your memories. Especially the one that squid brought up. I couldn't hear what he said––his words were hidden by a scream like a siren. But… If it helps any, I've forgotten some important things in my life, too."

"... Like what?"

"My best friends from Hope's Peak Academy." Memories floated back to him, each so cold to the touch but each he held like still warm embers. "It's funny: even without memories, things didn't really change. The noble ones still sacrificed themselves; the aggressive ones still picked fights; and me––well, I was still a sentimental guy..."

"...!"

Makoto recoiled back, swearing on the fragments of his higher mind that he was dreaming. An absurd event like this couldn't be anything more than a lie: according to his eyes and ears, the enigmatic Ahodori Kuroashi was laughing a girlish giggle not at all apt for her dark spirit and sealed body. That body, too, was all wrong––how she held her head back, reaching out with bold hands and like a starry-eyed child for when the bandages that fettered her to unknown regrets would finally be unraveled; that was all wrong, for she didn't need to search for the freedom she already was.

"Sentimental!" Ahodori exclaimed in-between fits of laughter. "That... that was it! I remember... I remember something!"

"A-Ahodori?" Makoto tapped a finger on his reddening cheek. "You, uh, still with me?..."

Before he could even register time's movement, he jerked forward: his tie had been yanked by the firm grasp of a gloved hand. He looked up and gazed into an azure eye. "More than you know."

"... Ah...?"

"Makoto, do you want to get flowers?"

He vigorously rubbed a hand on his neck. Things weren't looking too hot: his neck felt just as flushed as his hands. "W-wow, ok! I mean, not a, 'yes, absolutely!' ok––which isn't to say I'm not ok with getting flowers with you but––" her domineering eye burrowed further in him, "––Argh! Ok! Ok!"

"Good! A strong affirmative!" She let go of his tie and immediately headed inside her house. "I'll be back in a second!"

"..." He could only stand and stare dully at the house's railings and the fog beyond them. He heard some muted clanks, a muffled conversation wherein one participant sounded drowsier than the other, and, eventually, a firm click.

"Ahod-Gah!" He heaved a flower pot from his feet up to his chest. It wasn't so heavy, once he could prepare himself!

"Are you ready?" She displayed another pot in one hand and a shovel in the other. "Because I am."

"... Why do you have a shovel?"

"Why _don't_ you have a shovel?! I'm prepared for anything!"

"... Riiiight. And why flowers?"

She spun the shovel energetically, stopping the near blur just at the moment its blade would scrape his sweaty nose. "It's... because flowers are sentimental!"

He gulped at the fine tip of the shovel. "S-sentimental...?"

"Yes! They are..." she put the shovel down and paused, "... a symbol of love! Of life's beauty! That was what the most important person in my life taught me!"

"Sure?" He hid himself in the inside of a fairly inert pot. "Can I ask why I have a pot?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The pot in her hand twirled over the motion of her finger. "Since you helped me remember something, you deserve a symbol of my appreciation."

A cool streak of sweat flowed down his forehead as he forced a smile. "Y-you really don't have to give me a flower! And besides, would this creepy place even have flowers?"

"Stop talking, Makoto," she said matter-of-factly. "We're surrounded by wilderness and trees––flowering plants are to be expected. And, you know, the flower's just the end goal. I really just want to search."

"..."

She gave him her sparkling eye, flowing with a now familiar energy. "You could say that's my hope."

"..." He looked down at his pot again, then looked back up to her powerful eye. Its azure hue reminded him of something. His hands moved on their own, shifting the now weightless pot to one hand and placing the other over his now warm chest.

"You know what?"

"What?"

He smiled. "Your hope is my hope."

She descended down to ground level. "Then what are you waiting for? The journey's not happening without you."

He held the pot up on his shoulder as he took his first steps down. "I wouldn't have it any other way!"

* * *

"Ok, maybe this journey thing was a little romanticized..." Makoto said.

"No, you're just too weak." Ahodori scoffed. "Hide could handle this in his sleep."

He gritted his teeth as he stomped through the muddy ground underneath him and peered at a claustrophobic fog. "I am _not_ Hide."

Makoto and Ahodori's trek to the woods reminded Makoto much of his time in South America: too moist, isolated, and dangerous for his tastes. He could hear the odd cry or roar of beasts in the vast distance, and the warmth he had fostered earlier evaporated the instant they became audible. She assured him that the noises could not have originated anywhere close by and that the fog's obscuring of his primary sense distorted his perception of the other four, but that was little comfort. He noted how mud-caked his shoes had gotten and wondered who in their right mind would introduce her to this hobby-slash-passion.

"Yes, but Hide needs role models, and, as an adult, you're one of his role models," Ahodori declared.

"I'm only 21, though. I barely qualify as an adult!" Makoto protested.

"21? That's old enough." Her brisk pace slowed. "I was that old when..."

The deep fog meant that Makoto had to hug the area across from Ahodori, so was close enough to notice her steps erode into shambles and her hands begin to tremble. "Ahodori?"

His words came out just at the moment she would have stopped. He had moved ahead of her, so he turned around. Her grip on her tools seemed tighter than ever, and, in the next second, the force of her sprint carried him along. "Thank you."

His face curled into a smile even as he was almost deserted in the brown plain. "What'd I do this time?"

"... You reminded me that the most important person in my life would laugh if they saw me this flustered."

"Who is this most important person, anyway?"

The squishes of feet meeting mud quieted, as did the howls of things unknown. "... I remember..." her voice more absorbing than it had any right to be as a murmur, "bunnies?"

" _... Bunnies? That's it?_ " He shook his head. It wouldn't be right to probe further into her unclear memories, but the mystery disappointed him nonetheless. The fog began to dissipate at this point of their conversation, revealing blurry black outlines meters away, blank rock faces piercing through the gray veil, and an increasingly verdant ground at the outskirts of the mist. Heat returned to his slightly numb hands and feet while a breath of relief escaped his lips.

"Who's the most important person in your life?"

He glanced at her with wide eyes. "That's... a really hard question to answer. Hm..."

She turned to him, her blue eye scanning his body. "If I'm allowed to guess, I'd say someone as average as you would pick their parents."

"A-average?!"

"It's a compliment. Sometimes the extraordinary is anything but good."

"I think I get what you're saying. Yeah, my parents were––are––always in my thoughts." He chuckled. "I'm sure they're looking out for me and my sis right now."

She nodded. "Sister, huh."

"Yup. If you think I'm something, you should check out my sister: she's the real hero of the family. She fought tooth and nail through some huge challenges." He paused. "Just, ah, keep that between you and me. I'm still the older brother, so I have to at least try and compete with her, y'know?"

"Hm..." She spun the shovel idly. "Can't say I do. But, sure. It's our little secret."

"Phew! But seriously, though my family's an obvious choice, it's not quite accurate to say they're _the_ most important people in my life..." He lifted his face up. "... The friends I made in Hope's Peak matter just as much to me. I wouldn't even be here if they hadn't placed their trust in me and I hadn't placed my trust in them, and we've only grown closer over time."

"Sounds... familiar."

"It should––the 79th class are just like us, I think. Really, at this point, I can't give you a straight answer for the most important person in my life: everyone's important, in their own way."

"Sounds _very_ familiar."

"Does it?"

"Search your memories, or it will come to you in a dream."

He sighed. "That's the third non-answer I've gotten today."

She planted the shovel into the ground and stopped. "And it'll be your last, if you can find a good flower for me."

He stopped as well and observed the area. "Yup. Looks like we're here."

The dispersal of the fog which had hitherto hidden the wood also signaled significant progress on the two's journey, but Makoto gathered that there was yet more to be done. At the mouth of the sparse forest were many large rocks with buds of dew and sprinklings of mildew stuck almost deliberately around a made path. Grass grew everywhere outside and inside the forest's seemingly endless base. Trees as black as midnight loomed over him, their trunks unmarred but their branches barren, and those branches twisted and turned around each other so tightly that the sky disappeared behind them. All was still.

Ahodori approached Makoto and stood to his right. She stacked her own pot on top of his and looked straight ahead, then clenched her free hand around the shovel.

"Stay right behind me," Ahodori whispered. Makoto nodded soberly.

The two crept into the forest. Without light, Makoto grew more dependent on his deep breaths, like bellows of something fearsome inside this stagnant place, to keep track of himself against the willowy shadows sliding further into his vision. He felt the coarse fabric of Ahodori's coat against his hands and wondered about the battles that worn coat had lived through; it certainly persevered over someplace frigid, as what else could explain the feeling spreading on his hands as they rubbed against its icy, sinewy surface?

A hoot echoed from somewhere, nearly causing Makoto to drop his pots. He did not make even a squeak, however: Ahodori's hush, prodigious in its pygmy volume, entombed whatever he could possibly utter. He would not dare to speak, and he was using his ears only to counteract the pounding drum in his chest through the steady breaths in front of him, so he fell back on sight and touch. Compared to the tepid touch of his pots, the surface he felt on his hands' backs was more engaging––alive and always in minute but identifiable flux. The trees clustered more and more the deeper he went inside the forest, and though the lighting was abysmal, he saw signs of life in red leaves popping out of the once bare trees. Surreal as it was, he couldn't deny the forest was interesting.

What surprised him was just serene he was when it came to him: as he passed from one image of a red-leafed tree to the next, two tiny orbs stood out in the corners. He saw them, one azure dot in union with one saffron speck in the sea of dark green grass, but he did not examine them. He stopped and stared at the back of his companion, an almost childish confusion on his countenance.

"You don't see it?" Makoto asked.

Ahodori turned her head to the side, giving Makoto a skeptical eye. When he did not react at her gaze, she took deliberate steps towards him. Her shovel dangled in her hand as she followed his example and observed the field off the path. A moment of tranquility passed.

Ahodori gasped. "How did you...?"

Makoto shrugged. "I just did."

Before Makoto could blink, Ahodori stood at the area with the dots, beckoning him to follow. He drifted to her position, somehow soothed from his earlier anxiety regarding the potential dangers surrounding him. His eyes were stuck on the two azure spheres ahead of him and on their saffron companion.

The goal of their trip to the woods did not lay beneath Makoto now; rather, two flowers, in happy serendipity, discovered themselves here. One flower's azure petals raised out around its cooler blue core, as though it was stretching to grasp the entirety of reality itself. The other flower, in contrast, seemed to cherish its saffron hue, as its petals grew more radiant in color the more they ascended inward their vibrant pith. He handed Ahodori one pot and rested his next to the saffron flower.

What a strange time, strange place, and strange reason to marvel the beauty of a flower.

Ahodori had informed Makoto of how to pot a flower during their walk, so they went to work without hassle. She handled the shovel work with delicacy, using only the finest of movements and digs to excavate each flower intact. He grabbed some rocks nearby and placed them into each pot, then added fresh soil she had dug out. When both pots were ready, he and she carefully placed the flowers into their pots. After they had both took turns patting down the dirt in each pot, they knew it was time to return. The flowers would need to be watered, after all.

* * *

When it dawned on Makoto that he had just survived a trek through woods that frightened the (admittedly antsy) ultimate explorer, he laughed.

"Don't laugh so much," Ahodori ordered, her hands embracing the pot containing the azure flower and her shovel trapped between her arm and body. "You might drop yours."

Makoto stopped, though a smile remained on his face. "Sorry, I was just thanking my luck again."

"It was surprisingly peaceful. I didn't have to use this shovel for anything more than digging."

"You sure that would be a good weapon against whatever lives there?"

"Frankly, my _hands_ would be good enough."

He didn't need to skim his memory to respond. "That's... accurate."

The Expanse lay behind them now, and the comforting sight of brick buildings snuck out from the fog. Makoto didn't know how much time he had spent with Ahodori, but his sore feet told him that that was enough action for one day. As they neared Enoshima, a question popped up in his mind.

"Hey, which flower do you want?" Makoto asked.

"The one I'm carrying," Ahodori replied.

"You sure? I definitely like this one, but I'm not calling dibs or anything."

"No..." she looked the other way, "I think that flower suits you more. And this flower suits me."

"Huh." He took a second to glance at her flower. "I think it does, too. Matches your eye."

"... That's true." She quickly adjusted her pitch. "But there's more to it. My flower is searching and grows more beautiful as it seizes the day. I think it and I also have that in common."

His eyes widened. "I never thought of that. So," he gazed at the saffron heart of his flower, "does that mean you think my flower resembles me?"

"Of course," she replied. "Your life glows in other's eyes, and the more they understand you, the more it becomes clear your light attracts them because you are simple but pure."

"W-wow, that's nice of you to say!" He felt his cheeks redden. "I appreciate it, though. If you think that's how I am, I don't want to prove you wrong."

They were back inside the town, the path to her house next to them. "Your response proves it."

He smirked. "If you say so!"

The cul-de-sac emerged, and Makoto headed to his house without a care in the world. As he went up some steps, Ahodori followed him.

"Hm?" Makoto turned to Ahodori. "What's up?"

Ahodori tilted her head. "What?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, this is my house. I thought you had something you wanted to say."

She jerked, causing the shovel to fall clumsily on the porch. "Your house? Did I get distracted again...?"

"Looks like it." He smiled. "That isn't too bad, though: it means I can say thanks! For the flower, and for the company!"

"...Right." She chuckled. "Yes, as I've said before: thank you, Makoto."

"Don't mention it!"

She picked up her shovel and faced away from him. "By the way... If you need some help taking care of your flower, I'll be around." She stepped down and turned her face towards him. "Goodbye."

"I'll keep that in mind." He put his flower down and opened his door. Before he disappeared through it, he waved at her. "Seeya!"

Once Makoto was inside, he made his way to the guest room again and rested. He laid the flower on the table, behind _Hope and the Infinite._ On a whim, he looked through it. Rereading the first page, he smiled.

" _Hope is a boundless flower, ready to be the infinite,_ " Makoto mused.

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

* * *

 **|Kyoko||Lemeza|**

* * *

Earthy with a fruity element to it. Aged wood with a polished gleam and darkness nestled in small crevices under an orange light. Even heat rested over a cool body. Bitter tingles with a piquant aftertaste. Crackling and popping.

All senses operated at expected efficiencies. Therefore, Kyoko Kirigiri could proceed as she should: orchestrating a full synthesis of her individual senses to gather together what each could not perceive alone.

It had been two days since Kyoko's arrival in Enoshima. In those two days, neither sleep nor trepidation accosted her in an investigation of the area and its inhabitants, and at least trepidation had not been a factor for today's work. With one last cup of coffee before the coming of Night-Time––she had acquired a working intuition for the passing of time, since the e-handbooks only notified the user of the status of the day and her time-keeping devices had disappeared––she reviewed her observations.

The town and the coffee had one more in common than a cursory comparison would suggest. This much was clear to Kyoko even before the sweet vapors from her coffee sent sparks into her mind. Soil was an important connection between the two, for one thing. Her coffee was high quality due to the seeds likely growing in fecund ground, and this town was rustic due to its good soil. The humidity of a vast body of water touched both soils. The land Enoshima stood on was identical in characteristic to the temperate ground of New England. She'd been there before; all worthy detectives had to visit that location at least once.

Kyoko saw her reflection on her coffee's still surface, dark as a moonless night, She was pale, so her reflection shone particularly bright against the darkness. It was unlike the unerring bulb behind the clouded skies above Enoshima. That bulb's glow was sickly and its position arbitrary. Yes, arbitrary. The moon and sun followed natural orders and patterns, so that bulb and its redundant light were anything but natural. But the soil outside and its smell? Authentic.

Kyoko circled her gloved finger along her coffee cup. As expected, it was entirely cool to the touch. She recalled the various occasions she had watched Makoto struggle to keep a hold of a fresh brew of coffee for her. It was a shame that he could now handle the task with ease; it was a good thing that he also seemed unaffected by the tepid touch of this town's breeze, though. It meant that this place's weather really was out-of-sync with its smell and appearance. No place is New England, a grimly lit office, and a defective fridge at once. Why, if she had to guess, this 'place' was no place at all. Rather, it was a…

Footsteps approached. _Tap-tap, tap-tap_. Kyoko's sights darted to the entrance of the tavern's interior and stuck to it. She knew who it was––no mistaking _It_.

"This'll be easier than North Sentinel Island." A voice let out a confident laugh. "Those apples are _mine_ ––"

"..."

"..."

Lemeza Go was a corpse. Kyoko of all people could attest to that fact. Frankly, she preferred this dead silence to the other noises that frequented him.

"M-M-MISS D-DETECTIVE!" Lemeza shrieked. "P-PLEASE EXCUSE ME! I––I JUST CAME FOR SOME F-F-FOOD! I'M SORRY FOR DISTURBING YOU!"

Kyoko eased her glare if only to spare her already sore ears. "Good evening. You didn't disturb me."

"A-ah…" He ruffled his hair. "A-are you sure? I t-think, I think I have."

"How so?"

He crawled from the doorway to the sideboard, his eyes everywhere but on her. "Y-you're, uh… you're w-w-wrong. About the time of day."

"I'm confident it's around evening." She looked at the sideboard. "You'd better get your apples before it's Night-Time."

"N-no." He shifted his head from right to left with barely enough movement to qualify as a shake. "I-it's just around a-a-afternoon." His eyes livened up a second later. "I c-c-can, I can provide evidence for it! With an… experiment!"

She slowly put a finger up to her chin. "Experiment?"

His jittery hands grasped at the first round object it could grasp on the sideboard and moved it to his mouth. He stared at the apple with a small smile on his face. "I-if I… by the time w-we s-stop talking and it's still not Night-Time, t-then I can––it can show you that it's the afternoon."

"... Ok."

He nearly dropped the apple in his hand. "R-Really?!"

"If you think I'm mistaken, then what harm is there in testing me?"

"T-this––this!" He hurled the apple upward, shooting it to the ceiling of the two-story tavern. As he did this, his other hand clenched his face, leaving only a shining smile uncovered. Just as the apple was about to fall on the sideboard, his hand retrieved it with the speed of a black mamba. He removed his hand from his face, showing off a glimmer in his eyes before taking a mighty chomp on his apple. "This is it! I'm about to show the ultimate detective what I'm made of!"

Kyoko noted this personality shift, though not with her usual impartiality. She sighed to herself but kept her expression unmoved. There was more than one reason she accepted Lemeza's challenge, so she prepared herself to lead the conversation.

"Former ultimate detective. And it's just a title," Kyoko corrected.

"... You're r-right," Lemeza said. "B-but, whatever! You're still a detective!"

"I am." She took a sip of her coffee. An interesting array of flavors washed over her tongue. "Do you like apples?"

"Huh?" He moved to the table and sat facing her. He leaned on the back of his chair with a bit of vigor, and his chest was less guarded than the previous times she had seen him. "Yes. Y-you noticed?"

"Yes." She brushed some hair to the side. "Before entering, you said that you specifically wanted the _apples_. Additionally, you were quite distressed when Emilia didn't give you your apple yesterday."

"A-ah! O-of, of course y-you'd n-n-notice! You're the ultimate detective, that'd be the easiest of deductions to make!" He took another, more modest bite of his apple. "I'm… I'm taking the i-initiative, now. E-Emily's been hoarding them from me, s-so I'm taking the initiative."

Kyoko nodded. Emilia Lugosi, nicknamed Emily by Lemeza. She didn't make the best first impression, and her skills with gore effects would have to be kept in mind. That she seemed close to him did not help matters, either. Perhaps, if Kyoko played her cards right, he could do some of the leg work for her.

"Has Emilia always been that way?" Kyoko asked.

Lemeza gulped air. "I… I guess s-so. Not that that's a bad thing! H-honestly, she's a, she's a life-saver."

"Life-saver? What makes you say that?"

Another nibble. "W-well, you know how courage is doing or facing s-something, no matter how s-scared you are of i-it? Y-yeah, I'm not a... I'm not a courageous guy."

"I wouldn't say that. You stood your ground when Ahodori destroyed Monokuma."

"T-that… that doesn't c-count. I was," he sighed, "I wasn't afraid. At all. N-not a bit."

"You're telling me seeing a mechanical bear that suggested you kill your friends be torn apart while most everyone else panicked didn't affect you at all?" She let out a smirk. "You're quite on top of things, then."

He giggled. "Y-yup! I'm a s-smooth o-operator! And it's thanks to Emily! Y-you can't get scared of something if y-you're u-used to it! A-and, and she gets me used to e-everything."

"... Even a mechanical bear with a squid?"

"... _T-Terror of Coakley Avenue_ got pretty w-weird after the first three s-sequels..."

She held her resolve to not respond with an eye roll. "If you say so. I'm not much of a movie-goer."

He raised a shaky eyebrow. "N-no, no movies? B-but…"

"But?"

He averted eye contact, looking down at his legs. "She looks just like…" he muttered to himself.

Fine-tuned senses were both a blessing and an impediment: Kyoko never really got used to the fetid cadavers and malodorous fumes of chemicals, for example; on the other hand, she was always privy to whatever 'private' whispers a person of interest might have. This conversation with Lemeza highlighted both elements of this trait she had, but there was more to be done. She waited for his response.

Lemeza lifted his head up. The blush on his face stood out immediately. "..."

Kyoko stared at him. "..."

Under the homely sea of orange, she could see two sparkling pearls developing in the corners of his eyes. "I… I… c-can't. Ican't. Ican'tIcan'tIcan't––"

"Lemeza."

He jolted in his seat with a yip. After slowly reworking himself back into his original posture, she noted a certain lightness to his previously crunched shoulders. "... Yes?"

"Am I really that scary to you?"

He nodded. As he did, the pearls from before sunk down his tan, boyish face.

"I see." She gazed at the opaque surface of her coffee. "Let me ask you another question: do you think detectives don't feel fear?"

The question birthed something within Lemeza. Beyond the glint in his brown eyes, beyond the viselike grip on his apple, beyond the sudden rocketing of his body over his chair, burnt a vigor in him so intense, she had to reel back in spite of her guard.

"Is that even a question?! The only thing detectives don't know is fear itself! Hercule Poirot, the unflappable genius who solves mysteries with a smile! Leonard Diamond, a no-nonsense police detective who brings down the sickest crime boss around! And the," Lemeza panted, "and the Kirigiri clan, miss detective, the Kirigiri clan! You could look at death itself and laugh! Without fear, your family set the standard for every other amateur around!"

"... You're right on one part," Kyoko allowed herself one controlled laugh, "we can laugh at death's face."

"I-I am?!" He pumped his fists. "Wow, d-detectives really _are_ the best! I'm gonna write this down in my jour––"

"We laugh _because_ we're afraid, you know."

His eyes widened. "W-what?"

She crossed her arms. "Detectives are people, too, and people aren't robots. Earlier, you said you weren't a courageous person. I thought that was odd. When I look back on my past, I see nothing but a scared girl forced to deal with the consequences of actions she wouldn't want to dream of doing. Do you think detectives don't know fear? On the contrary: one of the things we're most intimate of is fear. It's the mother of imagination, I think."

"B-but, you looked so… you looked s-so c-composed and indifferent to scary things… I've seen p-people. People c-can't face fear. W-when they stare it i-in the eye, they f-flinch back. I-I know what makes the s-special people special: they d-don't feel fear. It's why, it's why I'm the best explorer around! I let fear punch me in the face until it's gone, and then I can do what I want!"

"Wrong. People face fear all the time–– _children_ face fear all the time. Only the most detached child can break from their parents without thinking, in the back of their minds, how frightening it is to not have someone constantly watching over them. Sure, they grow out of it, but only after they act in spite of their fear. As for me? I simply don't publicize my feelings unless needed. Ultimately, I accept fear." She narrowed her eyes. "It's something you should do too, especially when you're braver than you think."

"... I'm, I'm not… not courageous… a-anything, anything I do is d-done without f-fear."

"Lemeza, I just said that we detectives know fear." She smiled. "We can see it a mile away. You're absolutely filled with it. Back with Monokuma, and now with me."

"N-no!" He tapped his teeth on his apple. "I am _not_ scared!"

"You _are_ scared. Otherwise, you wouldn't have stood your ground."

"..."

"Did you want your friends to be hurt by Monokuma?"

"N-never!"

"Right. So, _fear_ for your friends' safety made you risk your life. And, unless I've misread you, you aren't looking to die soon."

"U-um… no. Dying i-is not what I want."

"Why are we having this conversation? It's because I think it's going to be Night-Time, right? If you couldn't care less about me, why should you care about what I think the time is?"

"B-but, but I don't want you to be wrong…" He breathed. "If you went investigating in unauthorized areas during Night-Time, you might… get hurt."

"And that concern you're feeling for me? That's fear. And you're acting because of and in spite of your fear."

Lemeza stared at Kyoko for a long while. The fire's crackle faded away before her conclusion. He sat down, his face crunched inward and downcast. She kept staring at him.

"... I really am too arrogant." Lemeza sighed. "If I was your Moriarty, I wouldn't last a second."

"Don't cut yourself short just yet," Kyoko said. "There's still your experiment."

He nodded. "Oh, forgot about that, I guess. Huh… I think we've been talking for a while, actually."

"So why not get our results?" She pulled out her e-handbook. He followed with his. Two deliberate taps of the screen came from each person.

 **DAY-TIME**

Kyoko's eyes widened. She grasped her head, feeling her brain pulsate within her skull. With ruthless scrutiny, she filtered superfluous information from her mind to find the source of her error. Nothing. Her mind was in sync, as far as she recalled. She inched her hand towards her coffee––

Ah. Coffee. There was something she hadn't considered. Caffeine, though effective for preventing the setbacks of short-term sleep deprivation, was just as capable of harming a person's mental capabilities, especially after 48 hours awake.

"Just as I thought," Lemeza said. "I've been to too many places and time-zones to not keep my clock in check."

"... See?" Kyoko shook her head, a smile on her face. "You've surprised me in more ways than one today."

"I, uh, I try." He ruffled his hair again, blush returning.

"I think, with this revelation, I should get some sleep." She stood up, disposed of her coffee, and went to the exit. "Before I go, can you tell me what's interesting about me not watching movies?"

"A-ah?! Y-you still remember t-that?! Uh, uh…"

"Don't think you need to be fearless. Just be brave. Detective's orders."

"... You're right, again." He chuckled. "Well, uh, I just thought it was weird, 'cause… you'd fit, you'd fit right in a _film noir_."

"... That's not a bad comparison to make. I enjoy that genre."

"R-really?! T-that's awesome!"

"I believe we should continue this discussion in the future." She turned to him once last time. "Thanks for fixing my error."

"T-thank you, miss detective. Seriously. I need to think about what you said… about fear and courage."

"Keep in mind one more thing: there's a difference between not showing your emotions and not having emotions."

And with that, Kyoko left. She had gathered more than what she needed from Lemeza. She had also imparted more than she expected on him. He was still a person of interest, as were all the individuals in this strange town (including herself), but she felt an odd obligation to him now. She would be ready the next time she crossed paths with her new fan: both to provide a helping hand and receive the helping hand. Above all, though, she would keep her senses acute. From behind her, she knew _It_ was near.

And _It_ scared her.

* * *

 **\Yasuhiro/\Asami/**

* * *

The time had come. The time of divinity's realization had come; the time of proven merit had come; the time of easy profit had come; the time of clever trickery had come.

Most importantly, Yasuhiro Hagakure's time of _sweet, sweet payback_ had come.

"Haha!" Hiro released his pen from his mighty hold, its mark on his notebook made. "Mark Twain, eat your heart out!"

Wait, was it Mark Twain who wrote that cool opening sentence for that one book? Hiro was pretty sure it was Mark Twain. A face of an elderly, bald male with a cool beard appeared in his mind: he looked like Santa Claus. Was that Mark Twain or was it the real writer of the book? Was it neither or was it both? He considered all possibilities. Then he promptly dismissed them all as silly second-guessing. How could he be wrong in a time like this?

Besides, Hiro thought as he swaggered from his bedroom, his handwriting was so perfect, he could have written complete nonsense and it'd have been a work of art. Three days trapped in this creepy place, reliving a game he still wished was just a bad nightmare, had inspired him to look back on his numerous positive qualities. He was a charming, sexy adult––this was clear when Byakuya dragged him to the breakfast meetings so people wouldn't miss him. Choosing a house like this, with its full-on library of esoteric texts and scented candles, must have been a result of his great intellect. When he reached his front door, ready to exit, he thanked his instincts directing him to his future.

The fortune Hiro had divined was clear: he saw, in a snapshot, his pockets with thirty extra notes in them, and a pink-haired chick running to embrace him with open arms. Only one girl here had pink hair, and he had warned her already that he always has the last laugh.

Hiro observed the outdoors in front of him and groaned. Somehow, this town whose name Hiro didn't know or want to know was even more gloomy than Hope's Peak and Towa City. How do you make a place creepier than blood red skies and a claustrophobic building? By making it look like Silent Hill!

"Least there aren't any evil cults this time!" Hiro cheered. He smirked, confident that all that talk about Ultimate Despair and Via Desperwhatever was junk.

"Evil cults? What have you been smoking, bro?"

Hiro pivoted to the voice's source and prepared himself with the finest martial arts he knew. Hands effectively covering his war-ready face, he couldn't see what was there. When his nerves eased, he dropped his guard to see Asami Seishin, recumbent on the top of his porch's railing and rabbit curled up on her abdomen, laughing obnoxiously.

"Argh!" Hiro clamped his hands on his ears. "Y-you're really loud, y'know?!"

"Pot calling the teapot black, right there," Asami said as she leapt to her feet, snickering.

" _Wait a sec…_ " he thought. "The saying's, 'Pot calling the _kettle_ black', actually."

She waved a hand. "Maybe in the past, but I'm a trendsetter."

"Yeah, totally. 'Cause changing one word makes it unique."

"You got it!" She tipped her jeweled hat. "Great artists steal with style."

"Nah, not re––Hey! I ain't loud at all!"

"Sure you are, I could hear you talkin' about Mark Twain from out here! Nice tastes in books, if you read him."

He held his head in his hands. "Ugh. What do you want, Asami?"

Asami twirled on her stage boots like a five-year-old girl in a flower field. Looking at her spin, Hiro felt a slight smile slip through his stern expression. If he had to guess, the girl in front of him wasn't any older than 16 (in spite of her rocking body), and she was making the most of her youth. Hell, if they weren't trapped here and if this wasn't a game where she was encouraged to kill him, he'd tell her to have some fun with the other kids. Eventually, she came to a stop.

"Well," Asami said, "I'm here to make a business arrangement."

The images in Hiro's mind of smiling kids and happy days turned into flashing money signs and green rain. "Business arrangement? You've come to the right place and at the right time!" He bowed. "I, Yasuhiro Hagakure, am here for you and you alone!"

She stuck out the tip of her tongue. "Who said I was making a deal with you?"

"Destiny, kid! I can shine a light on the mysteries of the universe with an accuracy rate of 30 percent!"

"30 percent?" She smothered her quivering chest as another fit of laughter broke out from her. "Someone call Penn and Teller, 'cause I smell some bunk!"

"Not to worry," he grinned, "I knew you were going to say that. You occult types always try and put an honest businessman down: so, I'm just gonna prove it to you with a _free_ prediction of things to come."

"Free, huh? There'll probably be interest..." She shrugged. "Eh, not gonna lie, I came here to see if the 'Ultimate Clavoriyant' title meant anything. So yeah, I'm down, tell me the goods."

"Good choice!" He massaged his forehead with the tips of his fingers, humming some mysterious mantra. "Ah… I see it now: you will come and hug me with arms wide open, and I'll have thirty extra notes in my pockets!"

Hiro congratulated himself as he stood with pride. Yeah, he just reused the fortune from earlier, but what the customer didn't know didn't hurt her. When he opened his eyes, though, the only thing he could read off of Asami's slow clap and sneer was disrespect and a dim future for this conversation.

"Shit, bro, you could at least _try_ and make your bogus exciting," Asami said. "Y'know, I guess I'll give you points for making a prediction that can easily be taken out of context." She winked. "Take me out to dinner and show me some moolah, and you might get your 'hug'."

Hiro bared his teeth and pointed at her. "What the hell, chick?! _You're_ the one who's going to show me some money! And I ain't hungry for dinner, especially if you want me to pay!" He crossed his arms and held his head up. "And to think, I was going to offer you a discount love fortune as a treat––"

"Wait."

Hiro, refusing to relax his raised head, glanced at Asami. She was stiff, with her red lips stuck in a neutral expression but her hands clenched, and she was gazing right at him. Their eyes met and his became affixed to hers. He readjusted himself, put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"I'm interested in seeing my love fortune," Asami said calmly. "I have thirty in bills available right now. If that isn't enough, we can arrange for a late payment––with interest."

Hiro took a step back. "W-whoa, talk about a personality shift…" He pushed his glasses up and grunted. "But no worries. A businessman knows when to forgive and forget. I'm feeling generous, so just hand me the thirty and I'll tell you what you want to know."

Before Hiro could rethink his words, Asami took off her top hat, dived a hand into it, and retrieved a pinkish blue wallet from within. With almost mechanical awkwardness, she walked to him and picked through her wallet, never once breaking sight on him. After he plucked some money she had offered him with a still hand, she hovered underneath him.

Hiro shifted through the bills one more time. "Thirty bucks, alright." He frowned. "Not usually a guy who pokes around these things, but you seem pretty invested in this service."

"Yeah, I am," Asami said. "I just… need to know my chances with someone."

"Sure, I gotcha. Kids have their hormones on the fritz and all." He paused. "Oh, but, uh… try not to get to get too interested in one person. Obsessive feelings screw everyone over."

She shook her head. "It's more than hormones, but I appreciate the concern. It sounds like you know from experience."

"Not my experience, but… someone I know had that problem. Believe it or not, but I nearly got killed by that person because of it!"

"... I'm promising I'm not like that."

He laughed. "Nice, looks like you two are more different than I thought! So, you got any details you want me to know before I start, of do you want me to just dive in?"

"I don't want to bias the results. Just find my future and tell me everything."

He nodded, then rummaged through his suit pockets. Lint, tarot cards, and various wooden symbols were pulled out and put back in until a polished crystal ball emerged. "There it is! Ain't it a beauty? It's the prized possession of King Solomon, y'know."

"Does it help with your prediction?" she asked collectedly.

"Yeah, gets my intuition going…"

Hiro peered into his crystal ball, seeing everything and nothing within it. His brain devoted itself to the endless enigma of fate, with the ball dancing and guiding his mind's eye along ethereal streams of unimaginable hues, and each ray of colors presented to him little portraits of people, places, and things real and unreal. He had traversed this infinite boundary before an innumerable number of times, and he had grown familiar with it, but something was different now. The distance between his mind's eye and the visions it saw seemed non-existent, now. It wasn't like he was seeing things beyond himself: his conscious and the abstract realm collapsed into each other, becoming synonymous. If he still had an active sense of self, he'd have been terrified.

Hiro surged through the pockets of future-time in an instinctual pursuit of his crystal ball. It darted to one then to another then, finally resting atop a swirling future-time. He clutched the ball, and his journey was over. The iridescent vortex sucked his floundering mind into itself and erased itself and him. Then, he was back on his unchanged porch, the scene still glowing in his mind.

Hiro grinned and pointed at Asami. "I see Asami Seishin exiting a plane and entering a fancy atrium where the dude you love is waiting for you with gifts!"

"You do?!" Asami leaned into him, her hand on her heart and her cheeks flushing. "Oh god, tell me more! I need to know if this is real! How did I look?"

"Hm… you looked sick. Like someone gut-punched you before you saw the dude."

"Ugh," she rubbed the back of her neck, "I buy that. I _hate_ plane rides. Always make me wanna vomit."

"See?! I'm the real deal, I couldn't have guessed that!"

"Maybe, maybe not… you want to convince me beyond a shadow of a doubt? Tell me what this guy looks like." She narrowed her eyes. "I have very specific expectations."

"Alright, alright!" He concentrated on the man in Asami's future. "Huh, that's kinda weird. I'm only getting pieces of him."

"What pieces are you getting?"

"Ah, first thing's first… he's tall."

"OK."

"I'm seeing a nice shade of brown hair on him."

"Alright…"

"Oh! He's wearing glasses and a neat business suit."

"Seriously?!" Immediately after that, she covered her mouth with a hand. "Wait, uh, I meant, _is that really all you got_?"

Oh yeah. He definitely has a satisfied customer. "Not at all! The gift he's got for you is a bunny cage with the name _Peter_ on it!"

" _How do you know about Peter_?!" She hid her face behind her top hat. Her rabbit's red eyes were wide opened and its cheeks puffed. "Woundwort, it's OK! You don't need to worry about your little, little bro!" She pointed at Hiro, and he could see an embarrassed eye poke out behind her hat. "Just cut the crap and tell me who he is! Please! I'll pay you extra!"

"Then it's time for me to go into overdrive!" He rubbed his temples. "It's clearing… clearing…"

"Oh, I knew it! My true love, my soulmate, he really is––!"

"Hey…" he let out a booming laugh, "it's me! Well, that's a surprise. You'd think you'd notice yourself in a fortune, right? I looked like an old geezer. Kinda a bummer, though, 'cause I thought me and Kanon had something, but you can't beat my predictions!"

"..."

"You make some nice dough as a magician, right? If we're going to be in love, I ain't gonna be stuck paying the bills." He rubbed his chin. "Huh, wonder if you're the mother of me and Makoto's kids…"

"Yasuhiro Hagakure," she said monotonously, "I have a magic trick for you."

He laughed again. "You do? Whoa, I guess my prediction really moved you. Alright then, show me your talent, future lover!"

"Sure thing, _lover_." She brushed her top hat with shaky hands and jammed it on top of her head. Behind her full lips, gnashed teeth revealed themselves. "Here's my next performance: strangling a bitch _and making the body disappear!_ "

Hiro could only respond with a shriek as he barely dodged a furiously slashed hand to his throat. By some miracle, he had managed to pocket his crystal ball while Asami stabbed him with a chilling glare. Just a second after that, he knew what he had to do: he kicked her in the knee and ran down the steps.

"Ow! Get back here, dickweed!" Asami screamed.

Hiro heard the footsteps behind him getting closer, so he peeked behind himself to see her chasing after him, arms wide out and hands tensed like claws. "You get away from me, psycho!"

"You're fucking dead, you hear me?! Give me my money back, apologize for that awful joke and the kick to the knee, and fuck off!"

"S-someone, help! My future lover is trying to kill meeeeeee!"

A realization struck Hiro as he bolted down the windy roads and slithered through every twist possible: money in his pockets, Asami chasing him, her arms wide open…

"A-ahhhh! Someone, save me! _My prediction was 100 percent accurate_!"

* * *

 _The nature of Hope and the Infinite has been summarized before. A certain philosopher understood Hope's allure:_

 _What makes hope such an intense pleasure is the fact that the future, which we dispose of to our liking, appears to us at the same time under a multitude of forms, equally attractive and equally possible. Even if the most coveted of these becomes realised, it will be necessary to give up the others, and we shall have lost a great deal. The idea of the future, pregnant with an infinity of possibilities, is thus more fruitful than the future itself; and this is why we find more charm in hope than in possession, in dreams than in reality. (Bergson 9)_

 _It is not the achieving of Infinity through which Hope emerges; hope blossoms through the process of becoming infinity. When Monday presented creation to itself, did it not intend for creation to become Tuesday, and for the Tuesday to become Wednesday, and so on and so forth in perpetuity? The cycle is not the end in itself_ –– _for to end goes against the totality of infinity_ –– _but it is becoming itself._ _Entities in the cycle must have the individuality to develop so that infinity can become but never be. That is the reason man and flower were not created to be one:_

 _Man, when he sees flowers and remarks on their beauty, hopes for futures when he may have flowers' features. Flowers, too, hope: they hope for futures when they may know man's love._


	7. Chapter 1: Part VI

**Notes:** We meet again, marvelous readers - and what a time to meet again! If you're wondering where I've been, it turns out four college courses, another DR story, and DR3 reaching its climax can cut a lot of time out of my schedule. I think I will be able to publish two chapters a month, but don't quote me on that. What you should quote me on is that things are going to get more interesting from here!

So let's talk about DR3: it's about to end, and I have to say that I've loved the ride so far. Twist, turns, and seeing the characters I love engage in one last story makes up for any blunders that may have arisen from pacing issues. Let us have HOPE that the last episode is the best one! Additionally, any thoughts on NDRV3? Me, I'm jealous for those who know Japanese and can import the game when it comes out in January.

Regarding the events of this chapter... Uh, read the Author's notes at the end of the chapter for why in the world THAT happened (and for a small treat from me to you!). As always, please express any comments, theories, and critiques you may have.

Finally, I'd like to thank a friend of mine named LinkToSomething68 on Reddit, for reading through this chapter and critiquing it. Thank you, again!

Now then, let's get this show on the roll!

* * *

Makoto awoke and silently stretched his limp body. His bedroom was peaceful, only marginally illuminated with aromatic candles. Some minutes after he woke up, the toll signifying day-time rang throughout the house. He groaned and prepared for the coming day. Once he was clean and presentable, he headed downstairs to the front door. Before his hand reached the doorknob, a single, authoritative knock came from behind the door.

"Huh? Who is it?" Makoto asked.

"Byakuya. Open up," the voice replied.

Makoto did as he was told and stepped aside as Byakuya entered. "Need anything?"

Byakuya looked around the interior with tense eyes. "This request is more of a formality, but I'd like to investigate your quarters."

Makoto nodded. "Oh, today's my turn." He directed a hand to the guest room. "Well, anything to aid the group. Take your time."

Byakuya went to the guest room. Makoto took a peek at Byakuya itemizing the bookshelves in the room but otherwise avoided acknowledging him. Byakuya continued his exploration of the house, and after he returned from the second floor, he revealed an antique dagger from his suit. The smirk on Byakuya's face reflected off of the dagger's polished blade.

"To think that Monokuma decided you were worthy of a weapon fit for my treasury," Byakuya said.

Makoto frowned. "So that's his 'gift' for me. Where'd you find it?"

"It was hidden inside a conspicuous patch of your bed's padding. Not a terrible place to hide a weapon, though I expected a bit more of a challenge."

"We shouldn't encourage him…" Makoto shook his head and turned to the front door. "Should we go put it with the others?"

"Good idea," Byakuya passed Makoto with that smirk of his still stuck on his face, "popcorn head."

"H-hey!" Makoto stamped a foot. "What was that for?!"

"And with that, I'm confident you genuinely did not know about the dagger." Byakuya went to the porch and stared at Makoto. "Let's go."

Makoto grumbled but did not hesitate to follow Byakuya. It had been a week or so since the game started, but things were going well. The 'citizens' continued on with their daily lives and at least presented a convincing appearance of normality––as normal as energetic boasts of daredevilness and random jump scares with a smile could be––while Monokuma kept to himself. Squiddy, creepy as it was, was only sighted by Aoi and Murasaki whenever the two went out for a swim, bobbing in Suijin's Sea.

Makoto's hands snuggled his pockets as he stared off to the road. "I kinda feel like things are easier this time."

"It's far too early to say that," Byakuya said. "But our week could have been more bothersome. People are doing as they're told, for one thing."

"R-right… not what I was thinking, but that's nice, too."

When the two passed by a certain pathway shooting off from the road, Makoto stopped.

"Hey, what happened to those logs?" Makoto asked.

Byakuya continued walking. "Yuta happened. You should know this."

"Hey, wait up!" Makoto ran to Byakuya. "What do you mean Yuta happened?"

"Ask him. Or, better yet, watch him."

"Well, looks like you're proactive about helping Kyoko…"

"Shocking, I know."

When the two arrived at Enoshima's central fountain, they saw Kyoko and Daisuke standing in front of an organized row of weapons, sharp tools, and general instruments of danger. She was jotting down something in her notepad and facing the general direction of Daisuke, who had his hands on the back of his head.

"A butterfly knife, and where did you find it?" Kyoko asked.

"Weirdest place ever, KK!" Daisuke replied. "So, I woke up today feeling pretty groggy and noticed my hair was all messy. When I went to comb it - Surprise! - my comb was replaced with this thing! Nearly cut my own scalp off. Would make me look pretty gangsta if I mastered this slick baby, though. Feeling me?"

"Of course. Would you mind putting it with the others?"

"Yeah, no prob."

Daisuke twirled the knife's handle merrily as he walked past Kyoko. He placed the weapon in-between a large fire-axe and a pair of sai.

Daisuke saw Makoto and Byakuya and grinned. "Yo! See Doraemon gave ya' a knife, too!"

Byakuya looked the other way. "We're here to drop this, not chit-chat."

Makoto waved at Daisuke. "Hey. Yeah, Byakuya found my 'advantage'."

Kyoko nodded. "Makoto, Byakuya."

"Everyone is accounted for, I hope?" Byakuya asked.

Kyoko nodded. "With Makoto's and Daisuke's contributions, yes."

Makoto shivered as he scanned the long row of weapons. "This is an armory. Can we even keep track of all of them?"

"Some aren't from Monokuma," Kyoko said. "Murasaki and Ahodori deposited most of their supplies."

"As did Yuta," Byakuya added.

Makoto's nerves relaxed. "That's good."

"Sooooo…" Daisuke approached the three Future Foundation members, "we outsmarted Doraemon, right? He ain't gonna tempt us into doing what he wants when we're thinking about the group?"

Byakuya tapped a finger on his crossed arm. "Don't celebrate yet. We're stalling for time until we can attack Monokuma directly."

Daisuke raised a burly fist to his chest. "Really have a bad itch to punch that bear, myself. When you Future Foundation guys get him by the throat, lemme have him!"

Makoto shook his head. "No, better not do that…"

Daisuke cracked his knuckles. "Why?! You don't get the urge to throw stuffed animals through the room?"

Makoto angled his head downward. "Let's just say the results are explosive."

"Returning to important matters," Kyoko said, "with the items procured, we should get to storing them someplace secure." She turned to Daisuke. "Have any recommendations?"

Daisuke tapped a finger on his forehead. "Hm… yeah, I think the tavern's a good place to put 'em. Like, everyone goes there regularly, so it'll be easy to keep track of the weapons. Plus, there's a lot of space!"

Byakuya smirked. "So you are capable of presenting decent suggestions after all."

Daisuke grinned back. "Don't underestimate me, Byagami!"

Makoto nodded. "That does seem like a pretty good place to place the weapons. Nice idea, Daisuke."

"Then I'll get to transporting them," Kyoko said. She marched off into the fog and down the road Byakuya and Makoto came from.

The three at the fountain only had to wait a few minutes for Kyoko to return with a small cart. The group placed the weapons into the cart and headed off to the tavern. As they moved through the tavern's dim halls, they were stopped by the muffled sounds of conversation.

"Please… just _please_ shut up!" a cartoonish voice roared throughout the tavern's hallways.

"As you ask. The discussion is yours!" another voice replied.

Makoto looked wide-eyed at the group and hall behind him. Two dark faces and Kyoko's narrowed purple eyes elicited a weak nod from him. The group continued.

"Good! Now bugger off! Or, better yet, murder someone so I can execute you personally!"

"An execution?" A laugh followed. "Elaborate! Surely you can come up with a suitable demise for me?"

"Do you know what the word 'despair' even means? You shouldn't be carefree about this!"

"No, I doubt I know what the word 'despair' means - I am naive, according to my friends. What say you, friend?"

"I say you should die! Fall into despair! At this point, I'll take anything vaguely nasty and unfortunate happening to you!"

"Oh, like being executed, for example? Not to be insistent, but I am curious about my hypothetical death."

"Fiiiine, you wanna know?! Will that satisfy you?! First you'll be trapped in a room flooded with late homework and teacher's warnings…"

Makoto opened the foreboding entrance to the tavern's dining room. He knew what to expect, so the sight of Monokuma and Hide sitting in a booth, a look of consternation on one's face and a sleepy smile on the other's, only moderately confused him. The two in the tavern turned to Makoto and his group.

Monokuma jumped to the top of his booth and cupped his paws together. "There is a god in this miserable world! Citizens, save me! This guy is insane!"

"I suppose I am. I trust your feedback on these issues, honorable mayor." Hide waved a lazy hand in the air. "And hello to you all! Would you also like to speak with Monokuma? He is an engaging conversationalist."

Byakuya frowned at Monokuma. "What exactly are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?! This little brat called me here because, 'I had something important I wanted to say to you.'" Monokuma's claws popped out. "And what did that mean? That he wants to be my _friend_ \- that he wants to understand me and my love of despair! A waste of time doesn't even begin to describe this stupid talk!"

Makoto took a step back, his eyes widening. "W-wait, are you serious?"

"He is." Hide tilted his head and continued smiling.

Suddenly, Makoto felt something shove past him. Daisuke trotted ahead of him with even spiker hair than usual. "The hell?! Are you screwing with me?!"

"That's what I said!" Monokuma shouted.

Hide waved his head around sluggishly. "Friends, I believe, are people who you should be frank with. Monokuma's account is accurate."

"What…" Makoto tried to plan out his words, but nothing came. He just gazed at the boy and the bear.

Kyoko turned back to the exit. "We'll be on our way, then."

"Wait right there!" Monokuma marched towards the group at the door. "Those are my gifts!... Puhuhu, I think I know what you guys are looking for!"

"You don't know jack!" Daisuke hollered. "And this is not cool, Hide! You always do this shit!"

"I do, do I not?" Hide chuckled.

"Oh, did you really think those gifts were meant to be used?" Monokuma wagged his black paw. "Not at all! My citizens, I gave you those items because I knew you would want to dispose of them. You're all buddy buddy right now, and I just wanted to show how close our little family has become!"

Hide played with an errant strand of hair. "We are all family, in a way."

"Oh cut with that sappy crap!" Monokuma composed himself. "Anyways, Kyoko, you'd better not keep walking off - I suggest dropping your treasures off here!"

Kyoko stopped and looked at Monokuma. "And why should we?"

"Weeeelll, I mean, this tavern's 'uge! It keeps out all those dirty bugs and pest that live south of here! Lots of empty space for lots of death instruments! Plus, there may or may not be an important clue open to you now, that might be upstairs!"

Kyoko took many deliberate steps forward, impressing Makoto with her trenchant tone. "Upstairs it is. We're going."

Byakuya scoffed but followed Kyoko upstairs. Makoto saw Daisuke push the cart into the dining room and stop in front of Hide's booth.

"This ain't the best time to smile, if you couldn't tell," Daisuke said.

"Hm, yes, I am ignorant of my own actions," Hide replied. "Would you recommend I frown?"

"I recommend you stick with your real friends instead of making bad ones."

"Well, I understand why you say that. Monokuma is who he is. Is that not what makes him interesting, though? In any case, I am sorry for upsetting you."

Daisuke stared at Hide, then relaxed his shoulders and frown. "I just don't getcha, dude. You should be smarter than this."

"You expect much of me… Thank you. I will try and meet your expectations."

"Nah, nah. I just want you to be safe. We all worry for you, y'know?"

Hide's smile shrank and his eyebrows fell. "I know that more than anything."

Daisuke nodded weakly and went upstairs.

Makoto went through the dining room, not glancing once at Monokuma. His vision was on Hide lounging in his booth, and he wondered about the strange, suspicious, or innocent boy and his strange, suspicious, or innocent action.

"Makoto, might we speak for a second?" Hide asked.

Makoto stopped. "Um, sure."

"Thank you. I have a question for you: this may sound silly, but have you ever tried befriending Monokuma?"

"Excuse me?"

"Monokuma, his previous controller, one you have named Junko Enoshima… Did you try to befriend them?"

Makoto gut wrenched. He didn't know anything of what was welling up inside him, save for that it felt hard. "Junko - Junko _was_ my friend from the start."

"I see." Hide lowered his head. "Is she still your friend?"

"That… this isn't the time and place for me to try and answer that."

"Is there ever a time or place for such thoughts… I shall consult my dreams for insight. May I return with answers - or, more likely, further questions - for you, Makoto." Hide's smile faded, and he rested in his booth.

Makoto sighed. With heavy feet, he made his way upstairs. This was his first time in the second story of the tavern. The ashen sky outside left its mark on the otherwise warm red carpet settled in the second floor, and the contrast would have almost been charming were he in a better mood. He followed the sounds of footsteps and wheels rolling nearby, and stopped as they did. His lowered hand remained at the center of his vision.

"This door's been locked since we got here," Daisuke said. "If Doraemon is being honest about things, does that mean - "

"I've checked this door before. This must be what he was hinting at," Kyoko said.

Makoto kept looking at his hand and at the ground.

"Hey, Makoto." Kyoko's voice resonated in Makoto's mind.

Makoto jerked his head up. "Huh?"

"I'll take this door. You've taken that risk enough already."

"Oh! You don't really have to. It's just a door. I can handle this no problem - "

A crisp creaking sound silenced Makoto. Daisuke and Byakuya stood beside Kyoko. She had one hand around the knob and another hand scraping pitch darkness. Held by that hand was a pocket mirror angled towards the unlocked room's hidden interior, a farrago of harsh white and smooth black reflecting off its surface. She retreated her mirror and hand; then, she pushed the door further and walked briskly into the room. Byakuya and Daisuke followed her.

Makoto grinned. Kyoko always was one step ahead of him: the short discussion about the door he was now passing through was proof of that.

* * *

 **Iron Dick's**

A neon billboard with those words rested atop a wide theater stage. On the stage was an unassuming mic-stand and a long, shiny stripper pole.

Well, Makoto wasn't expecting _this._

Iron Dick's spotlights illuminated only the stage and the first few rows of little seats. Red and black curtains rested near the edges of the stage, and at the back of the stage rested a conspicuous yellow door. Makoto had a long time to parse whatever needed to be noted about the room - or whatever was just too silly to not acknowledge about the room.

"Why is there a stripper pole?" Makoto asked.

"I believe it's because this game is designed to find new ways to test my patience," Byakuya said with a scowl.

"Suuurrpriise!" Monokuma cheered from somewhere before shooting through a hole that had suddenly revealed itself in the stage floor. His stubby hands held twirlers, and an aggravatingly colorful party cone was strapped around his head. "Happy first birthday, Iron Dick's!"

"Uh…" Daisuke let out, hands almost letting go of the weapon cart.

"What is this?" Kyoko asked. Makoto saw the frown on her face in spite of the poor lighting.

Monokuma hopped in place. "It's my precious Iron Dick's birthday party! Our town's first and only strip club is officially opening tonight!"

Makoto jumped back. "S-strip club?!"

"A bona fide, X-rated, content-warning worthy strip club! Aren't I a genius for spicing this town up like this?"

"That's completely crazy! What weird town like this needs a strip club, of all things?!"

"Oh, don't act like you're a prude! I remember what you, Hifumi, and Yasuhiro did during _that_ girls' group shower!"

"T-that's completely off-topic, a-and - !"

"Whatever! The point is you citizens have urges and needs, so I made this place to let it all out! Tonight, Iron Dick's will be ready to reveal _everything_! I can tell you're as excited as I am, 'cause you even brought gifts! Hey, notice how all of those toys are made of iron? All part of the theme, puhuhuhu!"

"Interesting," Kyoko replied. " Would you prefer I place the gifts on the stage or in that backroom?"

"Oh, yeah, go ahead and put them in the backroom…" Monokuma giggled. "But, ah, not _now_. My Iron Dick's needs its opening performance first."

Byakuya crossed his arms. "Which is tonight."

"Yup! And yes, attendance is mandatory."

Daisuke groaned. "What, are you gonna pole-dance? I wouldn't show up if you paid me."

Monokuma waddled down to ground level and in front of Daisuke. "Oh… about that. You're in luck! You don't have to show up!"

Daisuke raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Monokuma held back a laugh. "I mean, the main star can't be an audience member, puhuhu."

"Hm..." Daisuke nodded slowly. "If I'm understanding you correctly, you're implying I'm going to strip tonight."

"You're right on the money, sweetheart!"

"Ah, it's all coming together now…" Daisuke closed his eyes and grinned. "Life's finally throwing me to the dogs."

Makoto rubbed the back of his neck and lowered his head. "This, this can't be real. This just can't. Is this a joke?"

Daisuke shook his head. "No, Monokuma's serious. I'm going to strip tonight. Seems like everyone here's gonna have to watch."

Byakuya snorted. "I'm not listening to this conversation."

"Huh..." Makoto looked at Daisuke. "You're... actually taking this pretty well."

"You think so?" Daisuke asked.

"Yeah. I mean, this whole suggestion is just crazy - "

"Nah, you're just boring!" Monokuma interrupted.

" - Uh, anyways, but you're so calm about it. How?"

"Well, I don't really get a choice with Monokuma, I think. Plus, there's probably a clue here, which'll only show up when I do the dirty deed. Might as well bear through it with a smile."

"That's not a bad way of looking at things."

"Whoa, Maky's throwing me some consents!" Daisuke laughed. "Honestly, though? I'm the most nervous I've ever been in my life right now! Showing it all off to the Future Foundation and my friends?! That's a dare even I wouldn't do! Bwahahaha!"

Makoto smiled along with Daisuke. "Yeah, not going to lie, I'm not really interested in seeing you strip either, so I'm with you there!" For a moment, he forgot all about the absurd circumstances surrounding this conversation.

"Things could be worse! You _could_ be the other main star on stage," Monokuma interjected.

Makoto's smile disappeared. "Say that again?"

"Things could be worse! You _could_ be the other main star on stage."

Makoto started perspiring. "N-no way! Y-you're not saying I'm - "

"But, then again, I _could_ just be pulling your leg. Am I that naughty of a bear, I wonder?"

Makoto gulped weakly in response.

"Turns out, what could be isn't what will be! You're not stripping this day, Makoto - "

Makoto breathed out a relieved sigh.

" - you're just going to perform a stand-up routine tonight."

"What?"

"Come on! Your entire existence is a joke, so why wouldn't I exhibit you to the new students and show just how low the Future Foundation's standards are?"

Makoto furrowed his face. "The only joke in here is you, Monokuma."

"Puhuhuhu, I'm not the one who's gonna embarrass himself just to get a clue about his situation."

Makoto remained silent for a moment. "Fine. We'll use that clue to figure out who you are."

"There you go again! Your hope's standing firm even now! Ah, you really are a funny guy. That's the way it is!"

"Whatever." Makoto turned his sights to the stage and stared at the mic-stand. Monokuma never specified he had to perform _well_ , so he humored the idea of not even trying and just wasting time until the clue, which he presumed to be behind the stage's back door, was uncovered. If nothing else, it'd probably annoy Monokuma.

"Anyways," Monokuma said, "The two of you better stick around and prepare for your shticks! My Iron Dick's not going to have a half-assed opening - I want it full-assed! Daisuke, better enjoy showing off your Tristruck boxer-briefs!"

"H-hold on!" Daisuke shrieked. "I-I've never h-heard of Tristruck! Not once, nope! I don't wear their underwear e-either!"

Monokuma covered his face with his hands. "Wow, you're really bad at lying. Makoto, I recommend talking about how _you let Sayaka die_."

Makoto's face flared into the harshest glower he could muster. "You… you have no right to talk about Sayaka, bastard!"

Daisuke flinched, momentarily distracting Makoto from his furious trance. "S-Sayaka? You mean the -"

"Relax, relax! I miss her too: seeing how easy it was for her to fall into despair was hilarious!" Monokuma turned to Kyoko and Byakuya. "Now, you two, leave the premises! Your e-handbooks will notify you when you can come and celebrate! I'm sure your eyes will be glued on the performance! See you soon!"

Kyoko and Byakuya turned to Makoto and Daisuke, displeased looks on the formers' faces.

"You have my sympathies. Know that I'll be paying attention to anything but the two of you acting like clowns." Byakuya headed to the door. "Just keep in mind our end goal, and it'll be over soon enough."

"We've gone through worse… and weirder." Kyoko glanced at both Makoto and Daisuke. "Watch out for each other until we can regroup. With this development, hopefully we'll gain some ground against Monokuma." She then left through the door.

Daisuke sighed and sat down on the nearest chair available. Makoto released his grip on his pockets' insides and tried to distance himself from the present. He had the clue - everything in-between him learning about the clue and him having it just didn't exist.

"Welp," Monokuma interrupted Makoto's thinking, "I'll leave you guys to your practice! Don't bother exiting the room, by the way. When it's time to get started, I'll let you know! Until then, break a leg! Puhuhuhu!"

And with that, Monokuma lept into air and fell into the hole he came from. Makoto and Daisuke now had the time and privacy to prepare for the performance of a lifetime. Or, at least, a once in a lifetime performance.

* * *

"Um… hi. I'm Makoto Naegi. Yeah, I know you know that already. Feel free to, uh, _Naegi_ about it to each other later…"

"Haha… Yeah…" Daisuke coughed. "Keep it up, Maky."

Makoto grumbled under his breath. This was his fifth attempt at stand-up comedy in what felt like a week compacted into an hour. Daisuke sat at the front, his expression hinting at a variety of moods - like disappointment, discomfort, and, most persistent of all, boredom. Makoto didn't care about being entertaining, but at this point, he could at strive to be _interesting_.

Makoto, thinking a thought that surprised even himself, wished he had Hiro's 'talents'.

" _Come on, funny stories -_ " A yawn from Daisuke followed. " - _Oh come on! My life's been bizarre since high school, how am I coming up blank?!_ "

Daisuke stretched in his seat. "Yo, you wanna just switch and let me do my thing? Maybe you'll get some inspiration from seeing me… y'know."

"No!" Makoto pouted. "I got this. I can be funny, just give me one more shot!"

"Sure," Daisuke sighed, "whatever you say."

Makoto cleared his throat and leaned towards his mic. "Alright. So… name's Makoto Naegi. I'm the former ultimate lucky student, but I _hope_ you call me the ultimate _hope_."

"Aaand you blew it." Daisuke stood up and started walking to the stage. "Come on. This'll be better for you than it'll be for me, Maky."

"This shouldn't be hard!" Makoto whined as he forced himself to descend from the stage. He plopped himself on the nearest seat he could and glared at nothing in particular.

"Yo! Keep your eyes on me - need someone to keep track of my moves!" Daisuke yelled.

"You do know that means I'll have to watch you undress, right?" Makoto replied sharply.

"And what if I want you to see me undress?"

"E-excuse me?!"

Daisuke bursted out into laughter. "I did it! Sorry, but you're the kind of guy who shouldn't frown, y'know? Don't need another Yuta and Byagami in this place!"

"Huh?" Makoto shook away the shock buzzing in his head. "Was I frowning?... Sorry, I guess I'm just a bit annoyed at myself."

"What's up? Not everyone's a natural born jokester like me!"

"Well, you're lively, but in a nice way. No, it's just… I'm just told all the time I have a way with words, but I never really _tried_ to be that way."

Daisuke had begun tumbling along the upper portion of the stripper pole when Makoto spoke. He managed to remove his shirt before he landed on his feet as Makoto finished. He then sat at the edge of the stage.

"You're telling me you aren't a verbal hurricane, Maky?" Daisuke asked.

Makoto tried to play off his hands running through his hair as just a mindless tick. "N-not really! I'm just saying I think I can't will forth anything interesting. Like, I only impress people when I'm not trying to."

"Ah… so instinct?"

"Yeah." Makoto snapped his finger. "I just remembered something. Just a week ago, I told my friends a pretty cool story without intending to. Now, I can't even come up with an _opening -_ let alone an entire routine!"

"Seems like you've got only one solution - just make it up as you go!"

"Make it up as I go… Well, I've tried everything else. Maybe not trying will work out."

Daisuke stood up and grinned. "You can always trust the man, Daisuke OTA!"

Makoto smiled and relaxed into his seat. With constructive eyes, he watched as Daisuke continued his practice. Daisuke seemed like a natural, swinging and sliding up and down the pole. Makoto caught a certain hesitation present in Daisuke's act, however: throughout all of Daisuke's dance, the hands that had swiftly taken off his shirt moved with deliberation to release collar, shoes, socks, but not shorts. Those hands did everything they could to avoid the shorts, in fact.

"That's weird…" Makoto muttered.

Daisuke came to a stop and his body tensed. "W-what's weird?! Ahahaha, stop messing with me, Maky!"

Makoto raised an eyebrow. "You seem a bit insecure about something. You already said you were nervous about this whole event, but that didn't stop you from keeping a cool head. Am I wrong?"

"Uh - " Daisuke bit his fingers, " - Yeah, dude! You're just seeing things."

Makoto closed his eyes. " _Am I? Let me think about this…_ "

A moment of silence passed. Then, Makoto smirked and leaned on his armrest.

"I think I've figured this out. You have a secret - a secret you're trying to hide through your performance."

Daisuke flinched back. "Say what?! S-stop messing with me, man!"

"It was weird. Your anxiety seemed centered around something I didn't really notice at first. When Monokuma 'cheered' you on… he mentioned Tristruck, didn't he?"

"Maybe…"

"Tristruck underwear, to be exact."

Daisuke's sweat glistened under the harsh spotlights. "Tri-who? Never heard of 'em!"

"I have." Makoto held his chin. "They're a super popular band. A J-Pop band."

"J- _Rock_ , actually!" Daisuke shut his mouth with his hands immediately afterwards.

"Bingo! Your secret…" Makoto shot a finger up to Daisuke, "is that you're a secret J-Pop fan!"

"D-damn it!" Daisuke kneeled over and punched the stage. "Yeah, you caught me. I'm… I'm into J-Pop. Can I just ask how? What gave me away?"

Makoto eased his stare and smiled. "Who did Monokuma and me mention?"

Daisuke's eyes flared. "Sayaka! I mean, it's a common name, but my mind went to one person the moment I heard it - Sayaka Maizono! The hottest pop sensation ever!"

"You were right. Honestly, I had a feeling after you reacted to that name."

"It's more than a feeling!" Daisuke pumped his fist. "When I hear Sayaka's songs once again!" He sighed. "I used to go to her concerts all the time."

"Really? You're lucky. I only ever watched her shows on TV. You know, she and I went to the same middle school."

"Dude… you're saying you were friends with her?!"

A stinging pain weighed down Makoto's throat. His words came slowly, like the wistful recollection of more innocent times. "Yes. We only became friends because we both went to Hope's Peak Academy, though. She recognized me first, surprisingly enough."

"Hope's Peak Academy, huh?" Daisuke turned to face away from Makoto. "So, that's how she passed away. She was part of your game, and… and she didn't make it."

"I couldn't - no, she didn't."

The room was quiet for a long time after Makoto sat back down. In the silence, he had only his memories and the discomfort on his eyes and heart to commune with. Here, was a memory of a white swan and a small pool. There, was a memory of his pained ribs and a track field, with vivid green leaves on a familiar tree and the salty scent of sweat in the air. Ahead -

Ahead, behind a ravaged door and abject darkness, slumped in a bathroom stained by a disgusting, viscous pool of dripping blood, was proof _Makoto let Sayaka die_.

Makoto let them all die. That insane cackle before Junko's death mocked him even now: he couldn't even save her.

"Yo," Daisuke's voice, spritely and familiar, rang in Makoto's ears, "are you crying?"

"Huh? N-no, I'm fine. Really," Makoto stammered.

Daisuke paused. "You know, when I heard she died, I cried."

Makoto sat silently in response.

"Her music brought me through... some hard times."

"Hard times?"

"Part of being human, I guess," Daisuke chuckled. "You grow up dealing with Via Desperatio, things are tough. I dunno, I guess I liked how cute her group was or how optimistic her lyrics were."

"Oh," Makoto nodded quickly, "that sounds like Sayaka, alright. She wanted to inspire people with her music. It was her dream, and it's a dream I admire."

"Haha." Daisuke smiled softly. "Funny. If it weren't for you and Monokuma showing up, I'd still be wondering why I couldn't remember _how_ she died. Is that a silver lining?"

"You don't remember how she died?"

"Probably Monokuma's little 'screw you' to me. Maybe I did remember, up until I got stuck here. I just know she's gone, and that I cried. Now that's what I call a one-two gut punch."

Makoto shook his head. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. You're probably feeling just as bad if not worse from relearning all this."

"Man, no need for apologies! If anything, I'm gonna be the one to say thank you."

Makoto widened his eyes. "Wait, what's all this about? I haven't really done anything."

Daisuke marched to the base of the pole, his hands on the back of his head. "You got me to reveal a secret of mine and reminded me why I'm a daredevil at heart. Think that's more than enough."

"I'm a bit lost. Why are you a daredevil, anyways?"

"Simple question with a simple answer! I wanna do something so awesome and unbelievable, people'll be happy and kids'll be hopeful. Making friends is a big plus, too."

"Ah…" Makoto saw his once blurry vision become clear at last. He felt the weight and pain in his body evaporate - replaced with vigor and direction. "I… I think I have my skit!"

Daisuke crossed his arms over his bare chest, his eyebrow raised. "You do? What'll do?"

Makoto stood up and smiled. "It's going to be about Sayaka and a person that reminds me of her."

* * *

"Welcome, one and all, to Iron Dick's first birthday! Now, I know you're all itching to celebrate - "

"Celebrate! Yaaay! Wait, does that word have the same meaning as cerebral? :o"

"Surprisingly, those two words' definitions have absolutely nothing in common, buddy of mine! Once again proving that Japanese (Or English? Beats me!) is a terrible language! Now where was I? Oh right. Before the celebration can begin, I want to ease my little Iron Dick's into this new and scary world. In order to do so, I enlisted two talented citizens to perform an opening show!"

"Oh my, this does remind me of some more… _risque_ horror films. Quite absurd, but perhaps enticing!"

"Throughout my entire life - as both a student and a writer - I never thought I'd become witness to a strip club opening… That I'm accepting this is happening brings my own sanity into question."

"I'm just happy Monokuma didn't decide my talent made me most fit for a 'dancing' performance. I hope Daisuke isn't too nerve-wracked about this, though."

"Have some faith in our lunkhead, Koji!"

"You're right! Let's cheer on Daisuke together, Suki! Also, did you get to cleaning Makoto's clothes?"

"Yeah, yeah… Fixing that mess was its own reward."

"Silence! Now then, without further ado, let me first introduce the first performer of the opening show. 6'1'', weighing in at a nice 176 pounds, the boy as smart as a brick wall: Daisuke Ota!"

"Woooo! Sup, guys?! Tonight, you'll get to know me _real_ well! I've gotta secret I'm gonna show ya'!"

"T-this, t-this is s-so _lewd_! Ugh, so disgusting! I'd, I'd never w-write about this… hot and dirty display of m-masculinity…"

"Toko! You're drooling on me!"

"A-am not! L-like I would ever drool about your a-assets!"

"And now, for the second member of our performance! I hope he doesn't need much introduction. It's the man, the myth, the luckster whose brains and slippery luck foiled my plans twice in a row: Makoto Naegi! Give him a round of applause!"

 _Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap._

"Hey, this thing on? Good, looks like it is. Ok then - so, one day, I had to perform stand-up comedy in a strip club. Crazy how things works out that way. My life was weird during that day, and it's been weird before that day. I guess that's a comforting idea - y'know, that I can always rely on things not going as planned: I can't predict what absurd thing is going to happen next, but I'll always win if I bet that some absurd thing _is_ going to happen. The more things change, the more they stay the same, I guess. Prime example of that? People. People like an idol friend of mine. She's someone who's always with me for different reasons every day. You see, I find new ways new people remind me of her…"

* * *

 **Notes:** So, last year in college, a friend of mine told me they'd be impressed if I could ever justify both a strip-club and a character (preferably male) stripping within a story. They were completely facetious about the demand. I, however, was completely earnest about making that a thing.

This entire plot point emerged from a silly joke. Petty is my middle name, I guess.

Returning to more serious matters, I experimented with making art of the 79th class! I used Rinmaru's Anime Avatar Creator to create rough sketches of how I imagine my characters to look. Note, these aren't quite accurate, but I'm anything but an artist and I'm confident you can fill in the remaining details. I also included character biographies, so if you're interested, check 'em out through the link in my profile page! Until then!


	8. Chapter 1: Part VII

**Notes:** Long time no see, outstanding readers!

Apologies for the unannounced hiatus. College got very hectic, and I lost the will to write sometime during the summer. But I've never abandoned updating it, so here it is! I've had a lot of help with this chapter: a hearty thank you to my beta, celblau, who stuck around in spite of the slightly underestimated delay.

Regarding scheduling for future chapters: I won't lie to you about my busy life, but the story will be continued. For now, expect a new chapter every month.

But what are we waiting for? It's time for this game to enter its next phase... What a pity for the citizens of Enoshima.

* * *

"I guess that's all I have to say."

Makoto felt light looking down on the seated people in front of him. The sound of tired breathing approached from behind him, but that wasn't a bother. Right now, nothing could bother him.

The audience cheered.

"T-That wasn't funny, that was h-h-heartwarming!" Lemeza blubbered.

Asami followed suit. "And awesome! You're both totally Vegas-good!"

Somewhere in the back, he could hear the choked sobbing of a certain fortune-teller.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Daisuke said, placing a hand on Makoto's shoulder. "And thank you. You're the real star here."

A smile slipped from the other boy's face. "I just took your advice. Let's share the honors, alright?"

Then, an authoritative cough quieted the audience, and Byakuya stood up. "Honors? Have you already forgotten what we're here for?"

"God, aren't you a stick in the mud!" Monokuma yelled, appearing from one of the venue's dark corners. Just being near the bear gave Makoto goosebumps. "This was the most fun I've had in this dreary town in forever! I'm sure our two celebrities agree, riiiiight?"

"I've got nothing to say to ya, 'buddy'." Daisuke spat.

A snide snicker. "I'm touched you consider this humble mayor a friend."

"Isn't it time you hold up your end of the deal?" Kyoko asked. "There's one room here that we still need to see."

Yuta shot daggers at the detective. "'End of the deal'? I'll keep that in mind."

"Yeah, I guess it's time to show the gifts to their place." Jumping like a child, Monokuma beckoned to something at the entrance. "Get in here, Squiddy!"

"Coming, friend! :O"

The cephalopod entered through the double doors with a bang, slithering down to the base of the stage with the weapon-filled wheelbarrow. Squiddy lifted the wheelbarrow over to the stage's floor and propelled up to stage.

Daisuke barely dodged a pair of shurikens from the cart. "Whoa, watch where you throw that!"

Makoto, heart still-racing from the squid's appearance, looked at venue's yellow door. "W-what kind of clue would Monokuma put in there?"

"Now citizens," the mayor cleared his throat, "it's time to put my presents to good use! Follow your mayor and supervisor to the door at the back of the stage."

As the crowd gathered to the stage, Makoto tried to take a step towards the door, but a deathly cold, slimy appendage slapped itself onto his chest that wouldn't budge for anything. "Upupupu! Line-like Makoto, we have different plans for you and Daisuke. :D"

Daisuke sprinted to his aid. "What the hell?! This wasn't what we signed up for! If you harm Makoto, I swear-"

"Cool it, punk!" Monokuma had suddenly closed the distance. "Or else you'll be showing your pals more than just your undies!"

"W-what is the meaning of this?!" implored Takato.

"Oh, what's the matter? I expected the editorialist of all people to know that not all arrangements are fair! Puhuhuhu!"

Ahodori took clenched fists from her pockets and glared at the bear. "I am more than ready to disrupt this arrangement, then."

"Hmph," Adjusting his glasses, Byakuya stepped forward, "once again, I have to point out the obvious. Makoto and Daisuke are in no harm."

Kyoko's calm stride caught Makoto's attention. "Monokuma wouldn't harm them directly. That's not how he works."

"Ding-ding! Absolutely correct!" Monokuma guffawed. "I just want to take these two guys out to dinner! Have a little after-performance celebration, y'know?"

Daisuke snorted. "Yeah, _right._ "

The rest of the conversation was lost to Makoto.

His perception began to warp. At his peripheries, shadows slithered to obscure what should have been seen, and he felt a lifeless chill creep through his being, while panic settled a frigid stone in his stomach, begging him to let out a scream. He wanted to scream, but then he could hear his own screech echo around him. Darting his eyes in a vain attempt to see if anyone around him heard him, he could see nothing. Something he had no experience with nor wanted to accept the existence of held him at its hands. Something terrifying.

A voice broke through. "Line-like Makoto, you're drooling again! DX"

The next thing he knew, sticky suckers wiped whatever spit was staining his mouth off. He couldn't find the energy to protest this breachment of personal space. This must be what insanity felt like.

* * *

The cooked fish on Makoto's plate remained untouched as he picked through an accompanying pile of kelp with a fork. His eyes refused to look at his supervisor hovering at the other side of the table.

"Eat up! This is a bountiful harvest from the sea! You can't find fish this good in another universe, upupupu! :B"

"Where is Daisuke?"

"Line-like Daisuke is being treated by the mayor himself in the town hall! I believe they are eating what you line-like ones call 'ribs'? :$"

He gritted his teeth. Every second he was stuck here was another second that could be used to investigate the new area and make sure Daisuke was alright.

An idea came to him. "You know, I'm really not hungry. I think I'll pass on the meal. I mean, you haven't eaten anything right now either. Don't you want to take a swim?"

"Oh, silly line-like one, I'm feeding as we speak! ;P"

He leaned back in his seat. "What?"

"I'm feeding as we speak! ;P"

For the first time during the meal, he looked at the unshifting surface that could only vaguely be described as Squiddy's face. "Just who is controlling you?"

Squiddy hesitated for a beat. " _Who_? That's kinda inapplicable! I guess you could say that the 'who' that is controlling me is myself! XD"

A brow raise slowly came from him. "Are you an AI?"

"Upupupu, you sure are an inquisitive one! I knew it was smart to have you be chosen! :D"

"Chosen? What are you talking about? Just what the hell even are you?"

"I'm Squiddy the Squid, your supervisor in this wonderful game! :)"

He groaned and slumped into his seat. After some grumbles, he heard footsteps descending the stairs and let out a relieved sigh as Kyoko came to view.

"What did we fi-"

"Excuse me, supervisor," Kyoko interrupted, "may Makoto come with me?"

Squiddy twirled its tentacles and hummed. "Sure! Looks like our meal is over, friend! Take care now, and remember: I'm always by your side. ;)"

He sprang from his seat following Kyoko's lead. He reached out to her, but his hand met air alone.

"H-hey! Wait up! Is the clue that big?"

"See for yourself."

* * *

"This… isn't what I expected."

 _Sing, solemn tower:_

 _Of those who will sail_

 _To land dreamed by Seer,_

 _Who vowed Sunday's fail._

 _Sing, Seer's vile murder._

Makoto couldn't think of anything better to say.

Jagged letters, resembling the claw-marks of some wild beast, stained the wall. Though dried, the letters' red liquid still appeared to drip down to floor. The poem marked his mind as it marked the wall, unsettling him.

The room itself was small and barren, save for some odds and ends strewn throughout the floor: compasses, layers of white fabric, what looked like a sundial, and, of all things, a boat wheel. How everyone managed to find some place to stand in the mess was a mystery to him.

"Dudes, this place is creepin' me out," Hiro mumbled after a shiver.

"What a wonderful rhyme. Perhaps, if recited during the crimson moon, it might bring about the end of days," Emilia purred.

Tears welled in Lemeza's eyes. "P-please don't say that! It's, it's got to be a clue!" He turned to Kyoko. "Y-you see the connection, r-right?"

The investigator traced the letters in silence.

"Hey, my man," Asami said as she approached Makoto, "Where's Daisuke? Kinda worrying about him now."

Makoto shook his head. "He's at the town hall with Monokuma right now. It's not what I want, but it's better to not get Monokuma angry. He's going to be alright."

"Tch, I'll handle whatever shit comes his way," Murasaki said. She wandered to a pile of metal tools above a folded piece of cloth and gave a disappointed sigh. "This place is a pigsty. Looks like I've got some work to do."

Like phantoms fading in and out of sight, the tools moved from one end of the room to the other, fixed up and arranged in an exact line. What was once a wrinkled cloth transformed into a smoothed blanket lovingly laid out on the ground. Makoto gawked at Murasaki lazily stretching.

"W-wow," he let out, "you're amazing! I couldn't even see you move!"

Aoi went and gave Murasaki a high-five. "You go, girl! I'll need to do some extra work-outs if I wanna keep up!"

"Just do plenty of push-ups and sit-ups––and don't forget the protein shakes."

Masumi kneeled down to the blanket and ran a finger over it. She stood up, a hand over her mouth pensively. "Hm…"

"Something the matter with it?" Takato asked.

"Yes. This fabric is quite odd. It's not woven in a way that would make it comfortable to wear, and it's too big to cover anything in." Masumi turned to Murasaki. "You handled it for a bit longer, what do you think, Suki?"

The fit janitor shrugged. "I dunno. It's no kimono or anything, so yeah, kinda weird. What's got my mind going is why you'd put some tools on top of it. That'd ruin most clothes. Maybe this isn't clothing?"

"It's a sail for a boat," Yuta said.

"H-huh?" Makoto turned to the ultimate architect leaning on the right wall. "A sail?"

"The fabric is similar in texture to that of a kite's. It's large enough to move a small boat." Yuta put his hands in his pockets. "The tools are navigational, which is why there are compasses."

"Wait, hold on," he said. "What does boating have to do with anything?"

Byakuya crossed his arms, his usual frown morphing into a concerned look. "Do you remember what's to the east, Makoto?"

Makoto tapped his chin. "There's the town hall. Then after that, some body of water––Suijin's Sea, right?"

"Correct. Do you notice something particular about that name?"

"No? Suijin's the god of water, so it's not really odd to name a sea after-"

His eyebrows rose as he reflected on what he had just said.

"Wait! It's a sea! A sea's surrounded by land at nearly all sides! Somewhere off the coast, there's probably some land other than this insane place. But, does it really matter? I mean, we can't just swim all the way there."

"Think about this room and that poem. Carefully."

It took a second for the conclusion to hit Makoto and most everyone else in the room.

"We need to go to the bell tower as soon as possible," Kyoko said through the worried muttering of the crowd.

Makoto rubbed his hands frantically. "Y-yeah, because if Monokuma's serious about this being a clue, we're-"

"We're building a boat," Yuta said, shooting a grin at everyone.

* * *

Makoto strolled through the misty streets of Enoshima, his sights affixed on the dew-stained pavement. He breathed into his hands and rubbed them. The numbness dissipated against the ephemeral embers of warmth spreading in his hands.

Looking up at the street ahead of him, he sighed. This wasn't the road to his home, and the fogged windows perched above the decrepit steps to dull buildings spoke nothing to him.

" _Maybe a boat would be better than this,_ " he thought before turning around and walking back.

A click from behind him gave him pause.

"Puhuhu, glad we understand each other!"

He turned and saw Monokuma exit one of the indistinct homes, followed by Daisuke.

Acting on instinct, he darted to the home and tried to lock eyes with Daisuke, but met only a downcast face.

"Daisuke!" The chirp in his voice quieted to a whisper. "Daisuke?"

"What?" Daisuke shook his head vigorously and looked at Makoto with a relaxed smile. "Maky! Wasn't expecting to see ya here!"

"Oh, my heart's swooning! The lovers have been reunited!" Monokuma cheered.

He ignored the jab. "You alright? We discovered a huge clue back in the tavern!"

A laugh escaped through Daisuke's grin. "Nice! I'm fine. The bear and I just had a little talk. I'm just glad we're getting somewhere!" He shook his head a bit. "Hey, uh, was Saki with you? Need to talk to her."

"Oh, yeah, she should still be near the tavern. Wait, that's odd-"

"Near the tavern? Sweet! I'll see you later, Maky!"

Before He could respond, Daisuke vanished into the fog with velocious feet. Unease welled in the pit of his stomach as he was left alone with Monokuma.

"What a hyperactive kid. Really takes after his parents," Monokuma said idly. "I wonder if that's how he ran when his father called for him. 'Come're, little dude! Let's go to the park!' Or could it be something like, 'Welcome back from school, son! Was it fun? Dinner will be ready soon'? You know, a mother's call turns even the most macho of men into little pudding. Makes me wonder: would he still be able to run like that if they were out of the picture? Only one way to find out, I guess."

The lump of unease turned into that of burning coal. "You're scum, threatening his family like that!"

Monokuma put a paw up over his unmoving smile. "Wow, a bear thinking out loud is now a threat? Don't I deserve the right to think? I'm just like you on the inside."

Refusing to be baited, he stomped away without another word. The only thing distracting him from the bear's infuriating words was the relief for Daisuke's safety.

"Leaving so soon? Well, great chatting with you, too! Oh, and remember that clue. The bell tower will help you out a lot."

Those last words stopped him in his tracks. He contemplated the misty town's ever present tower.

" _I have a bad feeling about this._ "

* * *

Makoto still had a bad feeling about this.

The red door hinted little of what awaited within Enoshima's clock tower. A faint fragrance from rose bushes lightened the dense air, though insufficiently. Makoto placed his hands on the cold handle of the door, took in a deep breath, and pushed the door. For a sliver of an inch, the door flew easily, but then a firm clank rang out and something solid stopped his push. Another attempt resulted in the same resistance.

From behind, Byakuya scoffed. "Is a door too difficult for you?"

"There's something blocking it." He turned to face the 79th class looking at him expectantly. "You guys found this door blocked, right? And you haven't been able to open it this entire time?"

"Correct," Takato replied. "We eventually tried forcing our way in-"

"That failed," finished Ahodori, followed soon after by a collective grumble from Daisuke, Lemeza, and Murasaki.

"I doubt we'd be lead to false lead so soon," Kyoko said.

Aoi shrugged. "Maybe the door'll just open on its own? It's a possibility."

As if answering the swimmer's hunch, the bell tower sounded two long and gloomy rings. When the tolls faded away, a soft click could be heard coming from the inner workings of the bell tower. Makoto recovered from the sudden ringing and tried the door again. This time, the handle relented under his force, and the door slid open.

Aoi cocked her chin up and grinned. "Looks like my six sense ain't half bad!" She strolled into the bell tower, the group close behind her. Makoto waited behind, preparing himself for whatever hid within the looming tower.

As Ahodori was about to pass him, a steel slab dropped from the top of the passageway. He jumped back, hearing only a gasp before the loud slam (and his own yelp) of the steel blockage blocked the group ahead.

He placed a hand over his chest, settling his heart. "Are we stuck outside?"

She merely grunted. Placing a hand on the steel barrier, she rubbed it, perhaps looking for any structural weaknesses. With another grunt, she turned her back to it and took a few steps away from it. And just like that, the barricade lifted itself off of the passageway, revealing the rest of the group waiting behind it.

"T-thank god…" Lemeza stuttered, "I-w-we were w-worried there… for a s-second."

Kyoko waved Makoto forward. "Try going through––on your own this time."

He entered without incident.

The detective looked at Ahodori. "Would you mind testing something? Come close to the entrance and wait for about a minute. After that, go back to where you're standing now."

Ahodori moved to the door, but at the point where she was before the barrier fell, the steel fell once more. Makoto felt something like the entire tower shaking from its slam, and noting that the barrier was around two feet thick, figured this was why the door wouldn't budge earlier. The barrier rose a minute after as she exited its radius, clicking to confirm that it was safely locked in the ceiling of the passageway. Ahodori stood a fair distance from him.

"Is this what that vile bear wishes?" Ahodori huffed with crossed arms. "It appears I must wait here."

"I dunno about this, guys," Daisuke said. "What if Monokuma's sending us to one of his death traps and doesn't want 'Dori to mess it up? Maybe we should go back and-"

"No," was all Yuta had to say to end that train of thought, for Makoto at any rate.

The deliberation roused Hidetaka from his nap, though he barely acknowledged it with a lazily raised eyelid. "Hm, yes, I would like to see what lovely surprises Monokuma left for us here. And does fortune not favor the bold?"

Ahodori lowered her head and remained still for some time. "I will not leave you for long. Be cautious. I will find another way inside." She met Murasaki's gaze. Her sole eye held her student's unwaveringly. "Murasaki."

"Sensei?"

"You have my knowledge and, most importantly, your own determination. You are worthy of your heritage. Take care of your classmates and elders until I return. I believe in you."

The student seemed at a lost for words. Her knees shaked only a little before she performed a careful and deliberately paced bow. Makoto couldn't see her face from where he stood, but he imagined she was smiling.

With glossy eyes, Daisuke looked on the two. "Huh, pretty stupid of me, Doubting Saki and Dori. Alright then, let's find us some clues!"

Daisuke lead the group forward on, and it was only a few feet before the dark hallway opened up to a long room with green panelled walls and a vague lemony scent. The room was unsettlingly unassuming. At the end of the room was an unassuming spiral staircase. Outside of the faint churning of hidden cogs and gears, only modest lamps adorned an otherwise unremarkable room.

"Another ugly room," Toko mumbled. "It's so… kitsch."

Takato gave Toko a quizzical look. "The entire town of Enoshima could be called that."

"T-this room in particular, I mean. Tacky green color, a-and some spiral staircase like a lighthouse's?"

"Quiet. We have more important business here than aesthetic tastes," Byakuya snapped. Toko and Takato complied almost immediately.

The group split up to explore the room, and Makoto decided to hug the right wall. The room opened up a small rectangular area with the staircase at the center. He stood at the right end for a while and thought to himself. Something struck him about the condition of bell tower's interior.

Asami appeared over Makoto's shoulder, breaking his concentration. "Penny for your thoughts, bro?"

"Hey. I guess something about this place weirds me out. Doesn't this place seem a bit sparse?"

"Totally. Not a single chair here!"

"Right, so it makes me think we're the first people here. I mean, I guess that's obvious. But doesn't it still feel a bit lived in?"

"Nah, not getting that impression." Asumi grinned. "But hey, you seem like a smart guy who can prove me wrong~"

Before Makoto could blabber some embarrassing response, Daisuke inadvertently came to the rescue. "Hey guys, I'm gonna check what's upstairs! Follow me."

"Wait!" Murasaki ran up to Daisuke. "I'll stay here and guard this floor. Sensei would do the same for us."

"Good thinking. That'll cover all our bases while we all go up-"

"No," Yuta interrupted. "I'm staying here."

Daisuke stiffened. "Wait, why?"

Yuta simply glared as an answer.

Daisuke frowned and approached the architect. "Really? Is this really the time to pull this enigmatic crap?!"

"Get over it. It's none of your business."

"It _is_ my business! It's _everyone's_ business!"

"Only if it needs to be."

"You don't get it, do you? You're putting us all in danger by abandoning us for no reason!"

"Bother someone else with guilt-trips."

The veins on Daisuke's fists grew more pronounced. "Just what the hell happened to you, Yuta?! Don't you care about any of us—about me?"

"I do. I will always be grateful to you."

The daredevil's jaw momentarily dropped. "Wait, are… are you serious?"

"Yes. You've done so much for me."

"Yuta… I don't know what to say-"

A toothy smirk crept from the other boy. "You were the best sentimental dumbass to toy with."

"-You selfish bastard! I'll-"

"Enough!" Murasaki went between the two. "Look, Yuta, I get you're pragmatic. Isn't it pragmatic to keep with the group? This floor won't disappear the second you leave it, right? But the rest of us might need your talents for whatever is upstairs." She turned to Kyoko, who stood aloofly by the staircase. "Um, what do you think? You know this game more than us. We should follow your lead."

Kyoko crossed her arms and looked at each of the three. "I'm going upstairs. Everyone is free to do otherwise."

Daisuke stepped forward, his palms facing away from him. "B-but-"

"I've changed my mind. Lead the way, old friend," Yuta said, making his way to the stairs.

"Y-yeah, sure––sure." Daisuke moved back to the stairs, an ambivalent expression on his face throughout.

Though everyone else followed, Makoto stroke his cheek pensively: what was Yuta's deal? Why did Daisuke snap the way he did? Had Monokuma said something to put him on the edge? Beneath these questions lay a tinge of disappointment. He should have intervened, helped dissolve the division between friends––or whatever Yuta considered everyone else. As things stood, the boiling tension now just simmered.

When Kyoko moved to Byakuya and whispered something to him, leading the blond to nod and go upstairs, Makoto calmed down. He didn't want to pry––if it was something he needed to know, either of them would inform him––so he silently joined the party's ascent to the next floor.

As Makoto reached the end of the staircase, he saw a room with a grand window at the opposite end of the stairs and walls entirely covered over by masks. There were too many to count: many wooden ones smiled mockingly at him, and equally as many vinyl masks wept while others of metal stared blankly. He cringed just looking at the uncomfortably small room.

Others responded more positively to the discovery. Emilia in particular slid past the others and twirled around the room. "Oh, my spirit blooms!" She reached for an iron mask near the window and began to caress it. "This one, my darlings, speaks to me. What stories do you have to tell, my iron mask––hm?"

Emilia tilted her head towards the grand window, dropping the iron mask. She walked to the window and looked through it. "My darlings, this is a strange sight to behold," she said, eyes still surveying the strange view.

Approaching, he froze at the sight that greeted him. The window showed a vast misty sea.

"Guys, did we go up some fifty stories I just forgot about?" Hiro asked.

Makoto felt sick to his stomach, and his feet wobbled where they rested. "We-we were only on those stairs a minute."

"I don't remember the tower having any windows, either," Masumi said, tugging her shirt sleeves.

"I believe," Kyoko, stoic to the end, pointed at something beyond the window, "that might be of importance."

Makoto, perforce, squinted through to see whatever Kyoko saw in the foggy sea. Resting in the center of the sea was a sliver of earth distinct from the otherwise uniform waters. Atop that island was a white something too regular in shape to be naturally made––a building, and a large one, considering that it took up most of the island's area.

Beside him, Byakuya smirked. "Ah, how the pieces come together. Of course we'd need a boat to get to an island."

Meanwhile, Takato adjusted his glasses with trembling hands. "Yes, but this shouldn't be possible."

Daisuke placed a comforting hand on Takato's shoulder. "We'll have to pick our fights. What's important is that I think we've got our clue. We should head back down. Don't want to keep Saki waiting on this!"

"Do we really have to go now?" Emilia pouted childishly, an apple-colored blush flushing her cheeks. "This is the most legitimately disturbing part of this god-forsaken town. I want to stay!"

Lemeza hid his head behind his hat. "B-but Emily, there's p-plenty of other c-creepy places h-here."

"Yes, _creepy_."

"R-right."

"I'm bored of creepy. I want _disturbing_."

Daisuke sighed and rubbed his temples. "You're being childish, Emily. We're going now; this place's too disturbing for its own good."

"Prudent is the better word," Emilia said indignantly. "I need to be somewhere disturbing, and the bell tower needs to be fully explored. Is it not better for me to stay here and satisfy both desires?"

"Oh for the love of christ-"

"If I may," Hide interjected, "Emilia has a point. We may not have another chance to enter this place. We mustn't let fear, however well-meant and justified, impede our progress."

The other boy hesitated. "Good point."

"How about this? Emilia and I will stay on this floor. If we discover anything while you reunite with Murasaki, I will come inform you." Hidetaka faced Emilia. "You are fine with this, I hope?" After she nodded, he turned. "Are you?"

Another pause. "Yes."

"Then it is settled!" Hidetaka put his hands behind his head and smiled as he began to follow an already giggling Emilia. "Shall we, oh child of chills?"

"Indeed, curious crypt-dweller!"

Daisuke once again lead everyone else to ground level. As Makoto got close to Daisuke, he tried to whisper to him. "Hey, is everything alright?"

"Why're you asking?"

"You just seem a little on edge, is all."

Daisuke chuckled. "Man, I'm easy to read, huh? Yeah, some things came up."

"What things?"

"I'll tell ya in a bit." Daisuke had reached the final few steps. When his foot hit the floor, his focus went entirely to avoiding Murasaki running up to him and almost body-slamming him. "Whoa, nice to see ya too, Saki!"

"Guys," Murasaki exclaimed with eyes bright, "I found something big!"

"Really? What'd you find? Gave some wannabe assassin a one-two punch?!"

"Just follow me and find out!"

The group followed Murasaki to the left of the floor. There, they saw a cut along the green panels in the shape of a door.

"Is that what I think it is?" Aoi asked.

"If you're thinking it's a secret door, then bingo!" Murasaki replied.

"Nice!"

Daisuke patted Murasaki on the shoulder. "Good work! Find anything else?"

"Nope, and I don't think there's much else. Just a hunch, though."

"You're the expert here!" He laughed. "Oh, we found a creepy room full of masks and our destination, I think."

"Weird." She scanned the group. "Wait, where's Emilia?"

"She wanted to stay upstairs and, uh, look around."

Her eyes widened for a moment before he continued. "Hide's with her, so don't worry about it."

She breathed a relieved sigh. "Ah, that's good."

"Returning to the door," Byakuya said sharply, "it would be wise if we continued our investigation."

Daisuke nodded eagerly. "Always keeping focus––I like that, Byagami!"

The scion pointed a finger at Murasaki. "Escort us ahead. It would be unwise to explore a secret area without a guard, after all."

"That's a ninja for you," the janitor replied with a grin.

Murasaki slowly slid the door open. As she did this, the muted sounds of the hidden clockwork increased She had unearthed the metal innards probably responsible for keeping the tower's time accurate. The revealed passage hinted at the vast scope of this mechanistic marvel of Enoshima: a long stairway descended past the point of visibility, and above that stairway were an array of moving machinery compact enough to allow movement down the stairs with minor difficulty.

The group descended down the stairway, Murasaki leading them. Unlike the stairs leading to the tower's heights, the descent to its depths seemed to stretch time itself. Some unknown thing lit the stairway poorly, forcing Makoto to contend with the persistent sight of numerous dust particles. That, the endless descent, the weak lighting, and the volume of dust all made him feel woozy.

Thankfully, Daisuke was nearby, and Makoto wanted to continue where he left off. "So is now a good time for what you mentioned earlier?"

Daisuke gave him a confused look. "Well, uh, not really. I don't like talking while walking on stairs. It's a pain, y'know?"

Now that Daisuke mentioned it, Makoto's lungs were tiring out from the multi-tasking. Still, this seemed important. "I get that, but there _is_ something that's worrying you."

"And right now, _my_ worries aren't what's important."

Before Makoto could respond, a deafening crash boomed through the stairway.

Hiro immediately jolted and almost pushed Asami off-balance. "The hell was that?!"

"O-oh no," Lemeza said, "w-we're doomed. T-that's, that's d-definitely either a t-trap door o-or a g-giant boulder f-f-falling from the c-ceiling, ready, ready to c-crush us."

"Wouldn't we hear the boulder rolling down, though?" Asked Aoi, her tone the calm opposite of Lemeza's.

"It… i-it might be a c-cursed boulder…"

"The sound came from upstairs," Kyoko observed.

"Shit," Murasaki muttered. "OK, I'll go check it out. I'll try and get back as soon as possible. Go on ahead, but don't do anything stupid while I'm gone!" She then ran up past everyone and disappeared in the horizon.

The group continued their descent, though at a slower pace. After some time, they reached a sharp turn of the steps. By then only a few steps remained to the basement of the tower.

He made each of his steps count. He inched into the room, careful to make sure his eyes adjusted to the darkness and tried to connect with any other person willing to risk floundering about in blindness.

"H-hi, M-Makoto." It was meek Lemeza's voice beside him.

"Is that you? Sorry, I still can't see anything."

"T-that's, that's understandable." Lemeza's footsteps stopped, so Makoto also stopped. "Oh, y-you don't h-have to wait for m-me. I'm just w-watching out for that p-pit."

"Pit?!"

"Y-you don't k-know?" The explorer's voice sped up. "Oh! I'm sorry! I was arrogant again! I didn't mean to demean you Makoto! It was-"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down there Lemmy," Another voice spoke from behind the two. It was Daisuke, having apparently followed them. "My bad if I startled you. Best to keep close to the explorer, yeah?"

"I'm sorry I didn't warn you either!" Lemeza remained silent for a moment. "Any, anyhow, there's a p-pit a few feet away from where we are. Y-you can t-tell through––through the room's sound."

Curious by what Lemeza meant, Makoto tuned out the numerous footsteps and unclear voices and tried to listen to the room itself.

 _Drip. Drip._

So there was water nearby. Not much, but enough for droplets to fall close to him.

Soon, he heard a trickling gush underneath him. A tiny thing. Easy to ignore, but there. Something like… a stream of water, almost.

Beyond this, whatever other ambiance that could be heard merged with the sounds of human activity, and he was at his limit.

"I… I only hear water," he said.

"R-right, that's o-one thing," Lemeza replied. "The, the w-water flows down to t-the center of this r-room, and I, I o-only hear it f-f-flow down-it n-never hits ground, it n-never hits another body of w-w-water. So it probably flows i-into a deep, d-d-deep pit."

This information left Makoto flabbergasted; he couldn't register it at all. Were Lemeza's senses that good?

"Ha! A little pit doesn't scare me!" Daisuke yelled. "I'll circle around this place––get a good feel of the shape and size of this pit."

"Wait." Makoto's hand reached out to Daisuke. "I'll come with you."

"What? There's no need for that-"

"It's important."

His eyes had adjusted to the dark enough for him to make out Daisuke's frown. Without another word Daisuke went forward on, and he worried he might trip into this pit when he went after him. Daisuke made a hard stop, kneeled, and let his hand scrape an impenetrable abyss.

"So this is where the pit is," Makoto let out.

"Get back," Daisuke said gruffly. "It's not safe here."

Makoto stood his ground. "Daisuke, what did Monokuma say to you two days ago? This isn't like you!"

"Excuse me? Look, we just _talked_. Nothing happened!"

"And talking is all Monokuma needs to screw with your mind. I've been there, trust me. Weren't you saying to Yuta that it's bad to not be open with others? That's true, so I want you to be open with me."

For a moment, neither Makoto nor Daisuke spoke. The latter's face shifted from harsh features to a depressed frown and droopy eyes.

"M-maybe you're right." After a few second, Daisuke finally whispered. "OK––OK. It's a long story, and I'm gonna have to… say it to myself first. I might just start rambling after a while, but, I dunno." He started making his way around the perimeter of the pit. "A walk'll help me concentrate."

He silently followed the green-haired teen around the pit. It became clear to him that this was a circular pit and a large one, at that. From where he was, he could only see a foot or two at the pit and was unable to find its center. This basement had to be at least larger than the bell tower to house this pit and enough ground to not immediately fall into it.

Daisuke broke the silence first. "This class is my family."

Makoto waited for him to continue speaking. When he received nothing further, he prompted. "Has it always been that way?"

"Since I was old enough to walk." Daisuke looked up. "I'm sorry you had to see me and Yuta. He wasn't always that way. We were in the same kid's soccer team; we were best bros _and_ best players!"

" _Really? Yuta and Daisuke used to be best friends?_ "

"Man, I remember when Yuta and me raked in prizes: Most goals, best defenses, best passes, and even cleanest lockers! That last part wasn't us, though. We bullied Saki to get her to clean our stuff. Now that I think about it, maybe that's why she's hot-tempered."

"I never pegged you as the bullying type."

"Eh, boys will be boys. I only regret not watching Yuta closely enough. Something changed in him when we got older. He turned into this living furnace. I dunno, but I should have been there to help him. Now… well, you saw how we get along."

Regret. That was something Makoto knew much about. "You shouldn't blame yourself for whatever changed Yuta."

"I try not to. In the end of the day, Yuta's one person in this entire group of people I care about." Daisuke stopped and sighed. "I want everyone to be alright. I have to do whatever it takes. I need to."

"This must have been what you and Monokuma talked about."

"It was. But he… he didn't threaten us, if that's what you're thinking."

"Wait, what?" He had recoiled from the statement, and in doing so, he felt his foot depress on the stone floor like he had stepped on a button. He looked down to see something carved onto the floor and highlighted with bright yellow paint, which he had somehow not noticed while listening to Daisuke.

Kneeling down, he read the yellow passage:

 _To meet Tuesday's Despair, take flight with care_

 _First go north, til the fog clears_

 _Next sail west, til the sea boils_

 _Then turn north and never be deterred_

 _When the Sun peeks through the bloody sky_

 _You will know your journey's end._

"Are these," he thought out loud, "the directions to that island?"

"Hey, Maky, you paying any attention?" Daisuke asked loudly. "You've been quiet for a while-What are you looking at?"

"I think I found the clue we were looking for!"

"Fuck," the green-haired boy blurted out. "You have to get out of here right now."

"What? This clue is big." He stood up and turned around. "Hey everyone! You need to see this!"

"No!" Daisuke ran up to next to him. "Don't bring anyone closer!" He was at a lost for words seeing Daisuke so panicked.

"Listen to me! This is- _MAKOTO, WATCH OUT!_ "

Everything after that warning would forever stain Makoto's memory: Makoto felt Daisuke's strong arms shove him to the ground, where he landed just inches away from the pit; He lay supine, unable to do anything but watch; Daisuke stood where Makoto once was, his panic dissolving away into a wistful smile; A booming whoosh came from the pit; something zoomed into sight; the smile transformed into a horrible look of pure anguish; a scream.

A giant, obsidian axe, attached to a long metal pendulum, had lodged itself into Daisuke's ribs.

Blood seeped violently from the wound. Daisuke spat out bile tainted with crimson. He feebly held his obliques strewn about his stained clothes and the few ribs that weren't fractured protruding from his body.

Just as it struck like a lightning bolt, the pendulum pulled away from Daisuke's ruined body and returned to the darkness. The force, by some miracle or curse, did not take Daisuke off his wobbly feet, and he stood next to the precipice of the pit.

His mind gave out. After a flaring white light, he saw violent reds and inky blacks. There was a boy in front of him. The boy looked fake, flapping his lips like a broken puppet. That's it, a meat puppet. This was a dream of a broken meat puppet. He heard white noise. A loud buzzing. Like choking. The broken meat puppet made that noise. Oh no, it was a boy. The broken boy was choking. Choking and spewing white noise.

The broken boy laboriously turned his gaze from his torn body to directly at him. His yellow eyes fading into the darkness forced its imprint through Makoto's wet eyes.

"Huh," the broken boy uttered through a pained smile, his words muddled by a mouth filled with blood, "would you… look at… that..."

His legs gave out, and he fell into darkness.

Makoto awoke from his stupor and rushed to his feet.

"Daisuke!"

He ran to the edge of the pit, his trembling hands scratching its surface.

Silence.

"Daisuke! Please!"

With tears streaming down his pallid face, he made one last cry for something––anything.

" _Daisuke_!"

* * *

 **Continued Notes:** A good soul, taken too soon by events beyond their control.

Well, readers, I'm eager to hear what you have to say regarding these events. Have preliminary theories? General comments? Please don't hesitate to comment and review! Each one is like a gift to me. Until next time, my pretties!


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